Disenchanted Lullaby
by MsWolffe
Summary: "Jack? What sort of name is that, anyway? Is it a diminutive of Jackaline or somethin? Nevermind, I'm Natalie. I'm from Scotland, a music student, perpetually broke, eternal fatalist; and I accept the posibility that there might exist a lot of things more than we humans know of. Oh, and I love fluffy rabbits. I don't s'ppose ye 'ave one?"
1. Stories and stereotypes

**Okay so... I've made a oneshot before, after watching Rise of the Guardians, just to, you know, get it out of my system.**

**But then I decided making a whole story out of it, because, well why not? **

**Enjoy & reviews are always appreciated, 'cause if I don't know what you guys think of it I'll lose motivation to keep writing it and... stuff... yeah...**

**Anyway. **

* * *

**"**_Baby you light up my world like nobody else, the way that you flip your hair makes me overwhelmed, but when you smile at the ground it ain't hard to tell! You don't know-oh-oh...!"_

Natalie grumbled under her breath and pulled out a hand from under the- tangled- sheets to turn off the offensive sound.

"Damned be Harry Styles and the others whose names I never quite knew." She muttered, a heavy Scottish accent filling her voice. Finally, she managed to do a herculean effort and hit the snooze button of her radio slash clock thing. It was _way_ too early in the morning, and awaking to One Direction bubbly happy rhythm wasn't the best way to start her day.

She got up of her bed, and looked at herself in the tall mirror of her messy bedroom, looking in annoyance at her untidy short black hair, and the zombie expression profusely intensified by the dark circles under her eyes.

"I swear tis the last time I ever stay up that late in between school days..."

She walked into the bathroom and threw aside the- too big- sweatshirt she normally used to sleep, her underwear, and stepped into the shower. A nice, warm shower to antagonise the chilly wind of an early cold October would do nicely before she had to face the dreaded reality of St. James Music College of Burgess- and then probably her job with the spoiled kids she didn't even wanted to say 'hi' to.

Natalie sighed, defeated, turned off the water and enveloped herself in a fluffy purple towel. Then she grabbed the hairdryer and started the oh-so-difficult task of taming her short mane. Finally, after some time, she was able to turn the tangly black mess into her usual straight short bob haircut, even with the thick fringe completely straight. With a satisfied nod, she entered her bedroom once again and put on some clothes, nothing too fancy, just washed up jeans, black boots, and a button up shirt.

When she managed to find her keys- it was amazing how much they got lost inside her tiny apartment, but then again, the place was usually stacked up with papers- mostly music sheets- books- fantasy novels and some children fairytales, a book or two on music theory, and a some articles regarding medicine- clothes, a handful of instruments- Natalie owned a violin, an old, worn out guitar, a monstrous contrabass, two flutes, a trumpet, and she had managed to- _somehow_- make the mighty piano fit on a corner of the small space.

She finally grabbed her violin case and long trench coat and got out of her apartment, descending the steps of her small building's staircase one by one- the elevator was broken, _again_- and smiled when she saw the middle aged woman who played the part of her landlord on the main hall.

"Mornin' Mrs. Callahan." The girl said with a nod of her head.

"Good morning dear, are you going to class?"

"Aye, I can't let my uncle's money go to waste."

The woman smiled at her, she had taken a certain liking to the foreigner girl who always seemed so taciturn and ironic, she knew she was a good girl deep down; but life had managed to kick her hard enough to tough her up.

"Natalie?" Mrs. Callahan asked before the girl could turn to head towards the door "Your uncle... he's rich, isn't he?"

She nodded; the woman knew this already, why was she asking?

"Then why does he only pay for your studies?"

"Not only for those. He bought me all my instruments, and my car, back home. But 'ere, in the States? Here I'm s'pposed to do somethin' with my own skills or somethin' like that. That's what he said, at least..."

Even if that meant being stuck in a crappy apartment and struggling to make ends meet. Not that she was going to say that out loud to her landlord- or lady, was it?

Whatever.

The older woman just nodded her head in dismissal, and Natalie walked out of the building, trembling slightly when the cold wind surprised her. Damn, she should have brought a scarf with her.

_Damn_.

Oh well, no use in crying for spilled milk, she dug in her pocket for her car keys, and neared her beloved Morris Mini- she still remembered how she almost cried when her uncle got her the car for her seventeenth birthday- and prepared herself for the thirty-minute ride all the way to her College.

When she was nearing the campus, the light that announced that the fuel was _very_ low turned on.

"I should have gotten into Med School" She said, while parking in her usual spot. "Or any career that provides any sort of secure income, actually. But nay, 'follow yer passion!' they said. What good is it if I'm not elected to perform into any of those fancy orchestras?" She blinked when she saw that some other students where giving her strange looks. "And I should really consider stop talkin' to myself."

* * *

"Miss Nightingale?"

"Aye, professor Mills?"

"Could you _please_ just shut up and stop arguing?_ I'm_ the teacher here."

"Aye, sir, but I'm just saying that using that opera might not be the best way for us to learn-"

"Miss Nightingale?"

"...Aye...?"

"Out of my class. Now."

"...I'm goin', sir..."

In an unexpected- _not really-_ turn of events, she found herself dismissed from class forty minutes earlier than what should have been. And she didn't have to get to work until an hour and a half later. She smiled to herself, and walked up to one of the empty classrooms that were used often to practice; she had had a melody stuck on her head by _three_ days now, and she needed to get it out of her system or she would explode.

_Kaboom_.

So she entered the third room on the right at the end of the hallway of the second floor, and sprinted towards the elegant shiny black piano. She lifted the lid that covered the keys, and softly caressed them with her pale fingers...

And then a cough made her turn around and realise that no, the room hadn't been empty; just really dark, before she entered.

A tall guy with a messy mop of wavy black hair was by the window, a cigarette dangling from his lips.

"Nightingale" He saluted.

"Pilgrim" She replied.

Matthew Alexander Pilgrim was what one would call a genius. He was in his senior year, a prodigy of music; he could make amazing calculations in mere seconds, and had an amazing understanding of quantum physics. Not that Natalie actually knew _why_ a musician as him would _want_ to have an amazing understanding of quantum physics anyway...

He was tall and lanky, with elegant hands and stubble, product of not caring about his public image at all.

"I thought ye were not s'pposed to smoke inside the building." Natalie taunted him.

"And _I_ thought _I_ had settled the record of the freshman getting kicked more times out of class when I first started."

"Nice one, but ye 'ave to _go_ to class in order to get kicked out of it. The only reason ye didnee get expelled it's the fact that ye are a genius, and the school wouldn't want to lose someone like ye."

"True enough."

Matthew was grumpy and silent and hated people, and while Natalie wouldn't consider them as _friends_, they had managed to somehow reach an understanding- or, at least, could withstand each other presence for a long time without screaming like enraged banshees.

* * *

Natalie looked at her car, _offended_.

Apparently, snow could come as early as late October. Apparently, it could snow quite _a lot_ in five hours.

Well, low in fuel and with the engine so cold, she might as well take a bus to work instead of ending stuck somewhere in the middle of the road. She could always come back for her car the next day anyway.

"Hey! Nightingale!"

Natalie turned around and saw one of her classmates waving at her, it was a boy- or young man better said, at the age of eighteen- with sandy hair and dark blue eyes; immediately she remembered all of the information she had about him.

Joel Knight played the trumpet- and the harmonica, judging by some times she saw him on the hallway- he was an honest, nice, polite man... though maybe not the brightest bulb around. He could put up with her _charming_ sarcasm and dry wit without going crazy, so he was okay in her books.

Joel walked up to her, and looked at the state of her car.

"Need a ride?"

"Oh, blessed be the Lord who bestowed upon me the miracle of a saviour!" She exclaimed, with a dramatic sigh.

"...What?"

"Nothin'. I mean, thank ye, I owe ye, man."

The boy guided her to his truck, and Natalie climbed to the passenger's seat. The ride was nice, they both were chatting of simple menial things.

"...So, you're from England, right?" He said, more a statement than an actual question.

Natalie looked at him with her coal black eyes from behind her thick fringe.

"What?" She asked, unbelieving.

"Yeah, I mean, you have that weird accent, don't you? And well, your car, it has the English flag painted on the roof..."

Indeed he wasn't the brightest bulb around.

"Joel. That's the flag of the United Kingdom."

He kept silence, apparently not seeing any relevance into what she said.

"...The United Kingdom is formed by _more_ countries than _just_ England..." She spoke slowly, so the information could pass through his- apparently- thick skull.

"And the Scottish accent sounds _a lot_ different than the English one..." She said, resisting the urge to facepalm.

"So... you're Scottish then?" He asked; his brow in a knot.

Ugh. Must. Not. Slap. Him.

"Yes." She said with gritted teeth. "Yes Joel, I'm from Scotland."

"But then... shouldn't you be dressed up in some sort of vibrant green, drink a lot, and wear clovers everywhere...?"

That was it. She facepalmed.

"Ye're thinkin' of Ireland. And that's a lousy stereotype."

* * *

"_Please_, Joshua, focus on what I'm tryin' to teach ye." She rubbed her temples, sitting on the bench in front of the piano, next to the eight year old.

"But this is _boring_ Mrs. Nightingale!"

_Mrs.? _Woah okay hold on there.

"I am not that old! I'll be turning nineteen in February!"

"Whatever, my point issssss" He strained the 's' in the way only a child knows how to. "That this is _boring_! I don't want to practice these _dumb_ exercises! I want to play the cool stuff people in television do! Like that Russian man who was there the other day!"

"Oh, ye mean, like this?" She asked.

Natalie suddenly focused, and exhaled slowly. Carefully she put her fingers on place, and out of the blue, she started playing a really fast tune, with highs and lows and crescendos and twists and turns that made Joshua feel out of breath only by listening. As abrupt as it started, it also ended.

"Yeah, like that!"

"Good. Then ye practice the exercises, can't run b'fore ye walk, ye know?"

She glanced at the clock.

"Okay, the lesson ended. I'll see ye next Tuesday, then?"

"_Fine_" The boy answered, defeated.

Each class was the same; the little boy _demanding_ that she teach him something _'cool_', and Natalie trying to explain that she couldn't do so if he didn't know the basics. Which he didn't, since he refused to practice.

_Children_.

Natalie bid her goodbye to both the boy and his parents, and adjusted her trench coat before going outside, smiling with the prospect of having finished all her lessons for the day, and now having free time to perhaps read some and burrow herself on her bed- she didn't actually tidied it up on the morning, did she? - When her phone started to ring.

She sighed for the tenth time that day, and briefly considered answering with _'Morgue~'_, just for the sake of trolling whoever was calling her, but stopped when she saw the familiar number.

"'Ello?" She said.

"Natalie, dear, I know this is sudden, but I have to go out of town today and won't be here until tomorrow afternoon, I already called the other babysitter but she's busy! Could you _please_ look after Sophie and Jamie tonight?"

She sounded desperate, and somehow, somewhere, deep in her heart, behind those empty coffee boxes and Stephen Amell posters, Natalie felt a pang of mercy.

"Sure Mrs. Bennett, I'll be there in an hour."

Goodbye to her lazy, quiet night.

* * *

"Thank you for coming Natalie! I'm really sorry to have asked you at the last minute! The dinner is in the oven, you just have to heat it up, and don't let Jamie trick you; he still _can't_ eat as much sugar as he says. Once again, sorry for calling you so late!"

She just waved a hand in dismissal.

"Don't worry Mrs. Bennet, it's nothin'. Ye live two blocks away from my buildin', and yer kids are probably the only ones that do not make me want to rip my hair out."

The woman laughed.

"You're terrible, Natalie!"

"'M not! I swear ye should see some of the kids I give piano lessons sometime! Oh, and the ones who want to learn guitar are worse; they all want to instantly become a rockstar or somethin'. Jamie makes amazin' conversations, and wee Sophie is incredibly cute."

The mother of said children just chuckled and rushed outside, she was running late, and she knew her children were in good hands.

Natalie started climbing the stairs to go into the childrens' room, with her hands in the pocket of her jeans.

"Why, ain't ye goin' to say 'ello to me, ye little Kelpies?"

Instantly after the words escaped her mouth, two small figures practically tackled her, making her stagger to keep her balance- losing it would have resulted into the three of them falling all the way down the stairs.

"Natalie!" Jamie said, bubbling with glee. "You're here! It's been a long time since you came!"

She chuckled, and ruffled his hair.

"Aye indeed, I've been busy with college... and work... and being broke and miserable, most of my time..." She said the last part with a sigh, but recovered soon. "But why are ye so happy? I though the other nanny was nice."

Jamie grimaced.

"She's nice, but so _boring_. She's always on the phone, and never tells us stories like you!"

"No stories..." The sad little voice of Sophie broke a little bit of Natalie's heart.

"What's a Kelpie, anyway?" Jamie suddenly asked her.

"What?"

"A Kelpie! You called us Kelpies!"

"Oh, that's a legend, ye know. A black magical horse that stands around lakes and rivers and convinces humans to ride 'im; but then, he jumps into the water and drags its rider to the bottom... and well, I've heard that sometimes it devours him... except maybe the heart... or the liver..." She noticed Sophie's frightened stare, and Jamie's confused expression. "I'll shut up know. Actually, I don't know why I even said that on the first place."

"You're weird..." Jamie told her.

"So, ye don't want me to look after ye when yer mom is away anymore?"

"No! I mean yeah! I mean... I mean... You're awesome..."

"Awesome!" Sophie chirped, making the older girl laugh.

* * *

Soon enough Natalie heated up the dinner, and almost immediately afterwards Sophie started to yawn. She took her in her arms and tucked her into her bed before reading her Cinderella- with some alterations that were closer to the Disney version of the tale, since the original had some gruesome parts that she didn't consider apt for children of Sophie's age.

Such as, you know, the step-sisters chopping out their heel or big toe in order to make the glass slipper fit them...

_Ahem._

Whatever.

After that, she went into Jamie's room and noticed the boy was already in his bed, the hound they kept as a pet at his feet, snoring lightly.

"So, what do ye been up to recently?" She asked him.

"Nothing much, school and stuff like that... do you know anything about Bigfoot?" He suddenly asked.

"Nay, sorry boy. That evades my vast knowledge." She said with a grimace.

"Oh... Nevermind." He gazed outside the window, as if _something_ had caught his eye. "Hey Natalie?"

"Hmmm?"

"Did I ever tell you about my friend Jack?" He looked at her with a glint in his eyes.

"Not really; who's this Jack kid ye talk 'bout?"

"Well, he's really cool, and he's really fun too. But he's not a kid; he's older than you, actually."

Oh? So he had a cool friend who was older than her and really fun; awesome. Then why didn't they ask him to come over and watch the kids and leave her alone to her quiet, tranquil, lazy night?

Nevermind. At least she liked these children.

"And what makes him so cool and fun, may I ask?"

"He can make _perfect_ snowballs, and he's awesome at snow fights! And it's just impossible to avoid having fun when he's around! You know, you should meet him."

"Why?"

"You'd like him, and you could use a _little_ fun..."

"Hey! I do 'ave fun, young sir!"

"But you always seem so... stressed..."

"That's because I _am_ stressed, and a lot of things annoy me. S'mtimes I swear people just do it on purpose, like today, I _innocently _argued with my professor and he- Ah, but ye don't care 'bout silly facts of my miserable existence, do ye?"

"I still think you should meet Jack."

"Aye, fine, maybe I will some day... Now, are ye goin' to keep babbling 'bout this more-awesome-than-me friend of yers, or do ye want a story?"

Jamie shut up instantly, after his eyes flickered a brief second to steal a glance at the window behind her. Natalie seemed to be unaware of the gesture, as she was unaware of a winter spirit outside the same window, with a cocky grin and a mischievous glint in his silvery eyes.

"What sort of story do ye want?"

"I don't know; something I haven't heard of before... You didn't bring any book with you this time?"

"Nay, sorry kid. I haven't been at home yet, I even still 'ave my violin downstairs."

"What about your favourite story then?"

Natalie pondered the thought, well, she guessed that telling him about Frodo and the rest of the fellowship could be too long for a night; the same went for Bilbo and Thorin Oakenshield's company. The Little Prince was cute, but perhaps too metaphorical for Jamie to grasp the real meaning... then she thought about telling him some legend from her homeland, but she already knew that Jamie was familiar with the Loch Ness monster, and somehow, telling him about Kelpies who dragged people to lakes and devoured them, wailing Banshees, Black dogs who announced death, and the likes of so didn't seem the wiser thing to do.

Natalie blinked when she realised the amount of myths about death and darkness she knew from back home.

Then she thought about it... it was a rare myth, she didn't know its origins exactly, but it was one of her favourites. Very few children knew about it, it was a piece of knowledge more common to find in fancy bookcases of wise scholars, who treasured the tale by its nicely written words and old date.

"I'm going to tell ye one of my favourites, aye? My mother first told it to me when I was 'bout four; 'ave ye ever heard of Peregrin D'or?"

"No, who's him?"

"Well he's a man. _Was_ a man, when he was alive. I think that he lived around Middle Ages, maybe? Hmmm now that I think about it, it's probably a legend that was born with the death of Richard I of England, also known as the Lionheart, he was a king who... Nevermind, I'm rambling. Back to the actual story." She closed her eyes and coughed to set a theatrical voice. "Peregrin D'or is a spirit, an' an old one at that. He's brave and strong and silent and tough, and he wears golden clothes, and his hair and eyes are golden, and his skin glisten with golden too... Peregrin looks like a man, but has the regal authority of a lion, and he knows how to roar like one. He's the spirit that holds courage, he's the one that calms the racing hearts at nights from both children and adults alike; but he's a loner. He doesn't like to be seen or heard, he doesn't like the company of other souls- unless he makes a very special exception. You can find him at dawn or dusk, when the sun paints the land in golds and yellows and oranges, he'll be standing on top of a hill with his arms crossed, and a serious look, like some ancient war leader readying himself for battle." She noticed Jamie's eyes started to close. "And at those times when ye're afraid, and suddenly feel like yer heart starts to grow and a nice warm feeling makes all the fear go away... that's because him is roaring at ye, he's ordering ye to be brave. He likes to order people around, I've heard."

She stood up and turned off the light, about to exit the boy's room.

"Natalie?" He called after her with a sleepy voice.

"What is it?"

"Is that story true?"

She smiled.

"As true as ye want it to be..."

* * *

**I *know* there was basically no Jack in this chapter, believe me, I know that, but that will change on the next chapter already.**

**So... what do you think of Natalie? What do you think of the story so far?**

**...Is it terrible?**

**Btw, yes, I made up that last story.**


	2. Curses and caresses

**Okay guys, I'm glad you liked Natalie and the story, so here's the next chapter. Oh, and a 'thank you' to the one without username that left a review (you know who you are), since I like to thank every comment, and well, since you don't have an account I can't reply you...**

**VIRTUAL COOKIE TO THE FIRST WHO KNOWS WHERE I GOT THE TITLE FOR THIS STORY FROM! WOOOO! (Yay.)**

* * *

Natalie woke up with a start, and a pain on the neck. A shame, she had been dreaming quite the pleasant dream, something that had to do with bunnies that played the saxophone and had cute little hats and cute little sunglasses that added a certain _je-ne-sais-quoi_ to the overall picture. The black haired girl looked at the clock in the wall, and after having a mini- heart attack because it was nine in the morning already and she had fallen asleep and now she was going to be late for her classes and the professors would probably think that she was following Matthew's path- with the exception that even if she was talented at various instruments, she was _no genius whatsoever_- until she reminded herself that it was Saturday.

Good. Saturdays were good days.

She stretched and tried to ease the knots at her neck; well, it had been her own damn fault for falling asleep into the Bennett's couch instead of taking over the guest room- but hey, there had been an ongoing marathon of Bones, and she had wanted to catch up with whatever relationship Booth and Brennan had at the time, since, well, she had no cable at her apartment.

She remembered that she had woken up in quite an abrupt way, and searched for the source of the noise. Her eyes soon enough found the kitchen, and she entered the room, an unasked question on her lips.

"Jamie? Sophie? What are ye doin'?" She asked from the doorframe, upon seeing the kids making a big mess out of... everything.

Apparently, the boy had been _very_ startled when he heard the grown girl's voice, because he dropped a bag of flour that he had been carrying; said bag _exploded_ when it came in collision with the floor, and the whole room was soon enough covered in the white powder.

Natalie sighed. She guessed she was going to be the one that was going to have to clean all the mess.

"I'll ask again, and please, do _not_ drop anythin' now. What. Are. Ye. Doin'." Though to be honest she didn't intoned the question properly.

"Pancakes...?" Answered a covered-in-flour Jamie.

"Pancakes!" Apparently, nothing could bring down the joyous spirit of the little blonde girl.

"Pancakes." Natalie deadpanned. "Pancakes." She repeated like a mantra, trying to convince herself.

Oh dear Lord.

_Children._

"Yeah, well, we were _trying_ to, since you were asleep and we didn't wanted to bother you or anything, but then Sophie dropped the eggs, and I turned around so fast the butter slid out of my grasp, and... well...yeah. Are you mad?"

"I... nay." Another sigh. "I'm not mad. Just, the next time ye want pancakes, just ask me, aye? Even if I'm asleep, really. It'll be fine. Now both of ye go get cleaned up, I'll fix this mess and... And I'll make some pancakes..."

Sophie jumped up and down with glee, and Jamie smiled brightly.

"I didn't know you cooked!" He told her.

"I can make edible enough food." Natalie simply shrugged. "Now _shoo_, out of here both of ye."

The kids rushed upstairs to wash up and get changed, while Natalie busied herself with the task at hand. Meaning: try to make the kitchen appear as if a nuclear bomb had _not_ just exploded there. So she cleaned and swiped and dusted off and threw away the broken eggs that lay forgotten on the floor- not before almost breaking her neck by slipping with some butter, mind you- until everything looked presentable once again.

And then she started to make some pancakes.

She heard a laugh that was coming from some undefined point not so close to her, but shrugged it off as the stress playing with her head. Honestly, almost ten in the morning and she was _already_ stressed out? Not good, Natalie, not good at all.

She heard the laugh again- and it was quite magical, carefree, a beautiful laughter to hear- instead of her un-ladylike loud high-pitched barks of laughter- but before she could actually give the faery sound some thought, the children entered the kitchen once again; this time cleaned up, and looked at her expectantly.

"Almost done, ye can go sit at the table already." She commanded.

Soon enough, she walked towards the table with a rather big stack of pancakes in a plate.

* * *

"So the girl who was at your house the other night..." Jack Frost asked his first believer, trying to sound casual.

"Yeah?"

"You weren't serious about getting her to meet me, were you?" He asked, grabbing some snow from the ground, shaping it into a perfect ball, and hitting a random boy on his head. Soon enough a complete snow fight had started on the opposite street.

Jack grinned to himself.

"Of course I was." Jamie said with all the seriousness a child could conjure up.

"Why?"

"You were listening already, she _needs_ more fun. Not that she's not _funny_, but she's always so... stressed and complaining about her life and stuff. Plus, I think you'd be good friends." He finished with a huge smile.

Jack sighed, he wasn't sure... it was most probable that even if she had looked out of the window that day, she still wouldn't have seen him; why would she? She was a grown girl, she studied in college, and worked- a lot, if he trusted Jamie word, which he in fact did- chances were that she wouldn't see the winter spirit, the Guardian of Fun, not now, nor ever.

Jamie somehow guessed what was passing through his mind, and he chirped in:

"Trust me, I'm one hundred per cent sure she'll be able to see you!"

"How can you be so sure, huh?"

"Well, she's not like the rest of the grown-ups. She doesn't treat me as just a kid, you know? She's got lots of books on legends and stories, and even once I asked her if she actually believed those things, and you know what she said?" Jamie didn't even wait for Jack to put his question into syllables. "She told me 'I believe in everything believable. For example, there _might_ be fairies around us right now, and we might just not be seeing them. Actually, I believe that a lot of things _might_ exist; I believe in possibilities'! Though it sounded more dramatic with her accent."

Jack chuckled. He still wasn't convinced, what if he got all hoped up and then they discovered that _no_, she wasn't able to see him?

Well, yeah, so he had more believers now that Pitch had been defeated, but still...

That would be a harsh blow.

Jack loved children, after all, what could be expected from one of the spirits supposed to protect them? But he had been alone for three-hundred and eighteen years; sometimes he still longed for some human touch, a simple conversation with someone who was his age.

...Biologically speaking, of course, since no human could ever be three-hundred and eighteen years old, of course.

After a couple of hours, Jamie had to return home, and Jack resumed to his flying around causing mischief and laughing at anything laughable. It had been a good day indeed, carefree, full of joy, and perhaps even _maybe_ some prank or two.

But hey, it was in his nature being like that, who could blame him, after all?

He lazily floated carried by the wind- his first friend- until he got to the forest in which his life as Jack Frost had started. He had been planning on hang around _his_ lake for a while- at least he considered it as 'his'- until he'd found something better to do with his time, but he stopped a safe distance from his goal when he discovered that there was somebody else already in the lake. He perched himself on a high branch and looked down, squinting his eyes.

Wasn't that girl Jamie's friend? Yes, yes she was.

And she was pacing left and right, left and right, left and right... Jack shook his head to avoid getting caught in the enthralling repetition of her movements. She surely seemed distressed about something, but what could that be?

He eyed her as the girl ran a hand through her short hair, and sighed. Then she faced the sky and let a war-like cry escape from her throat.

Jack flinched.

"Oh just _fuck it_! Everyone can suck it for everythin' that I know!"

Okay so maybe she wasn't the best mannered girl around.

"Really?! I'm probably one of the only ones that's actually _interested_ in the _fucking_ career, and those, those... _sonsabitches _still keep on trying to make me go _fucking_ crazy!" She continued her rant.

Okay scratch that, she had no idea whatsoever of what manners were.

"I delivered _every single fuckin' assignment_! And what do they say? Do they encourage me to keep on interested; do they want me to blossom into an amazin' musician or somethin'? NAY! 'That's not quite what I asked ye to do', 'Ye completely missed the point of what I asked, it was s'pposed to taught ye how to work on _one_ instrument, ye didnee have to write a _full symphony,_ I don't care that ye stayed up the whole night!', 'I was expectin' somethin' happier', 'I was expectin' somethin' more melancholic'! And when I try to defend my work, they kick me out of the class! I swear that at this rate I'm about to be like Matthew, except he's a genius and has money, and I'm a fool that's broke! Oh, an' speakin' of that, my rent is late, again!"

She threw herself on the snow, apparently not bothered at all by the cold.

"I hate my life." She finally ended.

Jack was perplexed. Well... that had been... ahem, _intense_. He hadn't been expecting that, at all. Jamie had been right, she _could_ use some fun. He was actually scooping up some snow in his hand, with a lopsided grin on his lips, when she started talking again. Out of curiosity, he let the snow fall and listened.

"At least it's winter" She muttered. "I really like winter. And snow. They're nice."

She noticed some movement near her and stood up- not bothering to clean the snow from her leather jacket- trying to see what was there. Jack followed the direction of her gaze, and discovered a white, small bunny looking curiously at her.

"Oh" She suddenly said. "'M sorry ye had to hear that." Was she really talking to the rabbit?

Jack chuckled under his breath.

"I'd say that I'm not usually like that, but I'd be lyin'. What's yer name?"

The small fluffy animal cocked his head to the side, and sniffed the air.

"A silent one, are ye? That's okay, don't worry."

The bunny took a few jumps closer to the girl, apparently unafraid of the human.

Natalie suddenly seemed to remember something, and she searched for _something_ on the floor. Jack carefully looked at her... on the snow-covered ground, two items were laying there: a leather satchel with a lot of music sheets trying to escape from its inside, and a black... violin case? So she was a violinist, then? In any case, she grabbed the satchel and looked for something inside, grumbling about being 'so damn messy' or something like that. Finally, she took out a cookie, and held it while she kneeled on the ground, offering it to the animal as a little token of friendship- or something fancy and poetic like that.

The bunny sniffed the cookie, and with a few short jumps, he took it from the girl's hand and nibbled on it.

"'M glad ye like it. I absolutely _adore_ fluffy bunnies, ye now? They're like, the cutest thing ever." She petted him on the head. "Oh my God, ye're _the cutest thing alive_. I've always wanted a bunny, but goin' from foster home to foster home made it impossible. And when I settled, my uncle was never too fond of animals, so yeah..."

Foster homes...?

The little furry thing rubbed his head against her hand.

"Heh. I guess I should give ye a name, shouldn't I? Well, ye're a rabbit, and today I'm lackin' imagination, so I'll just call ye 'rabbit'. But in French, since whatever ye say in French it's a lot fancier, don't ye think?" She hummed. "What was the word...? Ah, aye, I remember. Lapin, that's what I'm goin' to call ye. Lapin."

And just like that, Jack watched her made a new friend. Well, if anyone could befriend a bunny that fast, it surely would be this weird Scottish girl with a lack of manners and no regard for the standard social code. He smiled.

"So, Lapin, want to hear some music? Snow inspires me, ye know? Good thing we're in winter."

She took a rather beautiful violin from her case, and studied it. She tested the strings, one by one, trying to see if it was tuned properly- and apparently, it was, since she smiled faintly. Then she simply looked at it for a while, observing it, _admiring_ it. She caressed it as softly as if it was a living creature, which such a devotion that moved Jack's heart.

Natalie was a very good musician. She could play amazing piano toccatas; with a guitar, she'd make beautiful ballads, she was a decent jazzist if given a trumpet, deep and grave rhapsodies were born from her serious contrabass, and even she was able to take you to the Middle Ages with a simple flute.

She was born to play music- even if she could never dream of reaching Matthew's level, but then again, she didn't even consider her as human half the time.

But her violin...

Her violin was her tangible soul.

It was the way she channelled everything she needed to say, her thoughts, her emotions, all the misery and occasional happiness, the annoyance and grief and melancholy and hope.

And she started playing.

It was fast, furious, it was a ship sinking in a storm while the thunders roared and the sea unleashed its power, it was the deep rumbling of a lion's roar in all its might, it was the wind blowing wildly on a tornado.

It was angry and intense and powerful and exhausting.

And Jack Frost found himself with his mouth open, heart racing, and an inexplicable urge to cry as a baby, listening to that enthralling music that made his guts churn and his heart ache. Without him even realising so, the tune changed to a one much more melodic one, slower, more fluent, with a distinct pang of sadness and melancholy.

Natalie was making poetry without even the need of lyrics. She was singing without a voice, telling a story without moving her lips, painting a picture with chords and strings.

Then, all of the sudden it changed again, it was a lighter, faster pace, it made him want to laugh and sing and dance and reminded him of all the things that were beautiful in the world. As the music was dying, she sighed with a smile.

"Ye know Lapin, it doesn't matter how the music starts; it should always finish with hope." She caressed the violin affectionately. "It's a weird thing, ain't it? Tis the only thing I could ever do. I sucked at Math and Physics, I was lousy at History and I can't play a sport without fallin' flat on my face at least a thousand times. But with music..." She shrugged. "I guess it's in my veins. Both my parents were musicians after all."

* * *

"Well, don't you look awful?"

Natalie looked up from her hiding spot- sitting on the farthest corner of the campus, on a cold bench below a big tree covered in snow- and found Joel staring at her.

"Thanks. Ye really know how to treat a woman."

He just chuckled, unfazed by her sarcasm.

"You know I'm right, Natalie."

"Aye. I didnee sleep last night. I've got the worst sleepin' habits, mind you."

"Yeah... I can see that. By your face. You look like a zombie."

"Ain't ye sweet, Joey?"

He just laughed again, and sat next to her.

"Here, I brought you coffee. I thought you might be cold sitting outside with the snow and stuff."

He handed her the offering.

"Oh, I swear ye're the most amazin' and wonderful friend!" She sipped some of the hot beverage with a huge smile on her face.

"I know, I know, I'm pretty awesome." He gloated. "By the way, I actually came here to inform you- since you know, you got kicked out of class... _again_; that we're supposed to do an assignment in pairs. We're stuck together, it's due in two weeks, I've written all the details, I can lend you the notes if you want."

"Nay, I'm a mess, It'll be best if ye kept it." She sighed. "I could really use a Brownie in my apartment, ye know..."

Joel's eyebrows furrowed in a knot.

"What has to do the fact that you're hungry with the fact that you're messy...?"

Natalie laughed at him, and ran a hand through her hair.

"No, no! A Brownie is... ummm, well, it's a Dobby."

"...What?"

"Yeah, Dobby. Ye know, from Harry Potter? Brownies are little elf-like creatures that clean up yer house and stuff like that."

"Oh." He just said, blinking.

"Aye. How did ye found me anyway?"

"It was pretty easy actually; I just followed the trail of darkness and desolation. And I asked around for the Scottish sour girl."

She barked a good-natured laugh, and sipped some more coffee. Joel seemed to notice something, because he opened his mouth to talk.

"Hey, Natalie? Shouldn't you hate coffee and drink tea all the time?"

She closed her eyes in defeat.

"Ye're thinkin' of England."

"Oh, sorry. Hey, it's true that where you come from most people play rugby and have plenty of sheep...?" He was genuinely interested in the answer.

"Joel. That's Wales." She looked at him like she was about to cry or slap him... or both. "_Please,_ I'm _begging_ ye, stop confusin' my culture..."

* * *

"Natalie! Want to join us?!" Jamie chirped from across the street, managing to avoid another snowball.

Jack turned around and floated up to Jamie, standing beside him to watch at the girl. She was walking with a box filled with papers in one arm, her other hand almost dragging a tall guy with wavy black hair that walked at a slower pace than her.

He didn't seem happy at all.

"Can't right now kiddo!" She screamed without turning around.

"Why not?!"

The young woman sighed, gave the box to the other guy, and motioned him to go ahead. Then she turned around and looked at the kid, possibly to tell him- more like yell at him, since he was on the other side of the road- the many chores she had to do in too little time and how she was just _too_ busy right now, maybe in another time. Or another life...

And it was then that her gaze locked with Jack's icy blue eyes. It was nothing, really; perhaps a second or two, and then she looked at Jamie once again like it hadn't happened. Jack stood very still, like a deer in the headlights. What the...? No, surely it must have been an accident, right?

Right.

Since she didn't say anything, and he _knew_ his aspect wasn't the most normal.

But what if...?

The girl shouted half an excuse, and hurried to catch up with the other guy.

"Jamie."

"Yeah Jack?"

"I think... I think she saw me..."

"What? Are you sure of that?" The little boy asked; his eyes big and filled with hope.

"No..."

Jamie seemed to think for some seconds.

"I've got an idea!"

* * *

It was _too damn early_.

At least she didn't wake up with some boy band pop song now, but still...

She mumbled and grumbled and cursed a lot. And then she got up not caring that she looked awful- no matter how many times she promised to herself that she would sleep more, she didn't- and she was only dressed with a too long sweatshirt, her underwear, and a pair of fluffy socks with little ducks patterns on them. What? If it was too _damn_ early for whoever it was knocking at her door, then it was _too damn early_ to remember decorum too.

She stole a glance outside the window- it was snowing heavily, as much for the younger kids to have a snow day. A shame that the same rules didn't applied to her College, and she had class in an hour and a half.

She opened the door from her apartment, and looked at whoever it was that had disturbing her sleep.

"Jamie...? What the-? How did ye even know which my _apartment_ is?"

Then she realised that he was not alone, and glanced at the guy standing next to him. He was tall- a head taller than her... okay, so maybe she was a little bit on the short side...- and had a blue hoodie. He was incredibly pale, with silvery blue eyes and white hair. He carried around some sort of shepherd staff- thingy, and was, of course, barefoot.

She stared at him. She stared at him long and hard. Then she arched a hidden eyebrow in question.

"Okay so, I _know_ I'm definitely nothin' like a fashion icon or anythin' and that I barely came here a year ago and I'm still not familiar with every mannerism and tendency; but _man, seriously_." She gestured at Jack. "The hell is wrong with ye?"

Jack was speechless. So, she _could_ see him.

But she...

She had no idea of who he was.

Was that even possible?

"Natalie!" Jamie interrupted her mini- speech, almost bubbling with excitement. "This is Jack, the friend I told you about!"

"Cool. Now can ye tell me _why_ ye had to come up to here at this ungodly hour to _introduce _him to me?"

Jack couldn't take it, he was just _too excited_. He laughed like a kid and smiled a huge boyish grin. She _could see him!_

"Frost." He suddenly announced her.

"...Bless you...?" Natalie said, uncertain.

Jamie giggled.

"No, no. Frost... as in Jack Frost. That's my name." He smiled at her, showing a wide set of impossibly white teeth.

"Jack. Frost. As in the spirit of winter...?" She asked slowly.

"Yes, _yes!_ Exactly!" He beamed even a larger grin, if that was even possible.

Natalie just looked at him weirdly, and directed her gaze towards the younger boy.

"Jamie. Why did ye bring... _Jack Frost_ ... to my doorstep?" She asked, not really believing that it was the truth.

So, somehow she believed that he existed, but she didn't believe that Jack was, well, _himself_. Well, that could be fixed quite easily, of course. The Guardian didn't wait for his little friend to answer the girl, instead he waved his staff in the air, and a mini snowstorm erupted around Natalie, making her shiver slightly. She looked at the flying snowflakes. Then at Jack. Then at the snowflakes again. Then at Jack again.

Snowflakes.

Jack.

"Ye're _the_ Jack Frost, ain't ye?" She said slowly, not looking actually impressed, for some unknown reason.

"Yes! He is!" Jamie shouted in victory "That's what we've been trying to tell you!"

Jack laughed once again.

She nodded slowly, accepting the marvellous revelation. It was weird, he though she was going to be scared, shocked, or anything else... you know, it's not every day that a winter spirit appears on your door; but she seemed to be accepting the fact without much trouble.

Oh, it was going to be amazing, _finally_ he had found someone closer to his age who he could talk to and fool around without having to respect her bedtime, it was going to be so awesome, maybe they would even be great friends and-!

Without a warning, Natalie closed the door on their faces.

Jamie and Jack shared a weird look. Then Jamie knocked on the door again.

"I do _not_ want to buy anythin', I've already accepted Jesus Christ as my saviour, I'm not goin' to sign yer petition because yer idea is stupid, and there's nobody home!"

Damned be everything that she could consider damnable. She crawled to her bed again, fuck school, she'll skip classes today, she was probably to be dismissed before the end of the first hour anyway.

It was _too damn early_ to meet winter spirits.

Just _too damn early_.

And she had promised to herself some years ago not to meddle between sprites and myths, _never again_.

* * *

**I just love Natalie. And the little fragments of her college life. And the way in which I hinted that Jack is not the first supernatural being (or whatever he can be called) she sees. **

**And I love Joel and his endearing silliness. **

**Oh, and the violin part was partly inspired by "Sur le fil", by Yann Tiersen. He's a kickass musician. Not that I believe anyone is going to google the song, but still.**


	3. Talks and trippings

**Chapter three already up guys! Enjoy! And for the record, I'd love to have a friend like Joel. I'd really love that. **

**...Not that I don't love my dim-witted, weird friends who abuse the fact that I'm short and throw me in the air when they get bored. **

**And I'm disappointed guys, nobody could tell me where did I get the title from. Well, I guess you don't have the same taste in music as me...**

**Whatever.**

* * *

She had tried to convince herself it had been just a dream.

Of course, she knew that hadn't been the case. Duh. She was not stupid, nor so full of herself to believe on the delusion that it had been just some sick joke. Nope.

Natalie knew better.

And that's why she was suffocating her screams of annoyance with her pillow, while trying in vain to improve her mood with some silly happy pop song- the ones she liked to listen to when she was drying her hair out of the shower. But that was a secret she hoped no-one ever found out.

"_Stupid_ Jack Frost, who does he think he is to appear at my doorstep?" She muttered into her pillow.

Needless to say, she had no desire whatsoever of getting in between spirits and sprites. Never again. Ever.

Those sneaky bastards could be tricky and messy; and even if it had been fun when she was younger, now wasn't a great time. At all. Right now she was _very_ busy being broke and miserable, having for company a fluffy bunny, an antisocial genius, a kind fool who couldn't get the stereotypes of her country right even if his life depended on it, the occasional happy presence of two _children_, and possibly the only human being in the world who had less money than her. And even he seemed happier from time to time.

That was the full extent of her social repertoire- without counting some greeting to her neighbours, and the constant arguing with her teachers. The rest of her classmates were happy enough to maintain a polite-_ safe_- distance from the girl, a fact which Natalie was perfectly happy with, actually. They didn't fuck up with her; she wouldn't fuck up with them.

There, a nice peace treaty.

She moaned once again in annoyance, and stole a glance at the clock. As much as she'd love to, she couldn't skip classes two days in a row; she _was_ responsible, even if it was at some far-fetched barely conscious level of her miserable being.

Besides, if she didn't get up eventually, she'd start growing mushrooms on her hair.

With a final curse against Jack Frost, she finally crawled out of her bed and stumbled into the bathroom, turning on the hot water and almost forgetting to take her socks off as she entered the shower.

As it's for common knowledge, the shower it's the usual place where genius think their grandest ideas, a safe haven for reflection and reviewing one's own life. So she used her precious time under the hot water to make some resolutions:

Number one: _avoid_ getting kicked out of college. Possibly _try_ to attend a full class without getting kicked out too.

Number two: sleep more. She had had barely four hours of sleep on the last three days, and she felt like dying- or at least, getting into a vegetal-like state. Probably a potato, since potatoes seemed really peaceful.

Number three: avoid meeting Jack Frost again, even if that meant avoid Jamie and Sophie, and the calls from their mother to go watch over them.

Good. Natalie believed in doing lists.

* * *

Natalie had her eyes closed.

That was interesting, when had she closed them? She didn't remember. Besides, she was wet, and cold. And there was something shifting slightly near her.

With a muffled grunt, she tried to remember what the Hell she had been doing in the last hours...

So she had successfully managed to finish her bath and throw some clothes on herself. She had hated Jack Frost once again for making such a beautiful scenery- really; she was in love with winter- and had driven her car to college. Soon enough she was '_politely invited to retire_' and she had been wandering the snow covered campus, her head pulsing and _really_ sleepy. She remembered feeling oddly light-headed, and getting a little bit dizzy, and then...

Then?

She heard the shifting around her again, and opened her eyes to gaze at her side. She almost instantly recognised Joel's sandy hair; he was lying on the ground- so was she- with his eyes closed and hands lazily intertwined behind his head.

"Joey? The Hell we doin' here?" The girl asked.

Joel hummed and looked at her with one eye.

"Oh, well, you looked exhausted this morning, so I guess that when you got outside with the cold and everything you fainted. So I just, you know, laid over here next to you so that people would think we were chilling and stuff." He was completely serious.

Natalie blinked once.

Twice.

"Joel, I think I want to marry ye."

"Step into the line, love, step into the line."

She chuckled, feeling her head a little bit less dizzy already.

"You should really take the day off though" He told her. "You know, relax and stuff like that. Want me to drive you home?"

"Aye, please."

He stood up and helped her off the ground, noticing how she didn't even made an attempt to clean the snow of her clothes. Strange girl indeed.

Natalie called in sick for all her duties as a music teacher, and swiftly climbed up to the passenger's seat. Joel turned on the radio, absentmindedly pressing random buttons to get to _any_ station that had _something_ playing, instead of those horrible and not funny at all programmes with the corny hosts that thought too much of themselves. Natalie closed her eyes and sighed- she didn't feel sick actually. Just _tired_, really, really tired. She pressed her temple to the cold window, and looked outside, at the white and grey from the city...

_-And when you smile at the ground it ain't hard to tell! You don't know-oh-oh!_

Damned be Harry Styles, Jack Frost, and the radio host.

Natalie looked at the now familiar neighbourhood. She lazily looked at the kids playing in the snow; she even thought she saw Jamie- and she smiled at him when he waved at her- and next to him-

_Jack Frost._

Natalie ducked instantly and made as if she was tying the shoelaces from her converse shoes at Joel's curious stare. Right. Because shoelaces could get all untied when riding a car.

Of course.

She finally got out from the car, rushed a quick 'thank you' to her friend, and raced stairs up to her apartment- last thing she wanted was to be interjected by some white-haired not-quite-mortal guy. However, she tripped on the last step, taking a small consolation with the fact that there was nobody around to testify her quite dramatic fall.

Damned be Harry Styles, Jack Frost, the radio host, the last step of the stairs, and the elevator that didn't seem able to stop breaking down every couple of days.

She looked for her keys and entered her apartment, plopping unceremoniously on the bed and closing her eyes, not even bothering to take her shoes off; she was just _too damn tired_ for anything.

Damn it all.

* * *

Natalie slept basically all day. She woke up at five in the afternoon, feeling energised and as fresh as a lettuce. She smiled and stretched, happy to have made disappeared the dark rings under her eyes. She stretched, and decided that it was time for a walk- Joel said she should relax, except he didn't told her _how_ she should do so.

Stealing a quick glance at her wallet and ignoring the rumbling of her stomach, she smiled at the knowledge of having a couple of bucks left- enough to buy some food for herself and a friend.

So she went to buy a couple of sandwiches and two bottles of water, and walked all the way to the park with Burgess founder's statue on it. She quickly scanned the place and smiled when she found what she was looking for; so she skipped up to a middle aged man sitting on a bench, who was dressed in mostly rags. She grimaced at the state of his clothes.

"Evenin' Jean." She said sitting next to him. "Brought us some food, hope ye're hungry" She grinned a toothy grin, while handing him a sandwich and a bottle of water.

"You're too kind, mon cher." He answered from behind his greying beard.

"Nay, friends are s'pposed to watch each other's backs, aye?" She replied nonchalantly.

The older man chuckled, and took a bite of his sandwich, eagerly trying to ease the hunger that attacked him.

"It would be terribly kind of you if you could ask Jack Frost to stop making the streets so damn cold too." He grumbled, fastening his tattered quilt around him to block out some of the chilling air.

Natalie furrowed her brow at this. Even if she _loved_ winter, Jean still had a point. After all, winter was pretty when you had enough clothes to keep you warm- or at least, a house with a roof on top of your head.

"Aye... terribly impolite from him to do so..." She let her words linger in the air.

Both fell in a companionable silence, the silence of old friends who understood each other at a deeper level.

"You know... In France... In France I was _great_ musician. People would make impossibly long lines to listen to my accordion. I was teacher with lots of money. I had respect, a name. Here... Here I'm homeless and nameless. Nobody cares for a street musician who begs for coins." He eyed the young woman. "Nobody maybe except for a sour Scottish girl with a weird taste for friends."

She patted the man on the back.

"Ye're ten times better than most of my classmates, Jean. B'sides, takes misery to know misery; I feel ye, trust me."

He smiled.

"Jean? Why did ye never get married?" She asked, choosing a random topic.

The man grimaced.

"I was _poltron, _what is the word...? Ah, coward. I was a coward."

"But ye _fell_in love?"

"Oui. With a beautiful woman back in France... Only when I came here I learnt she was pregnant. Heard she had a baby girl..." His tone was sad, melancholic...

"Sorry. Should've never asked." Natalie felt an embarrassed blush climb to her cheeks.

The man just ruffled her hair.

"Don't worry; it was a long time ago... I think she'll be near your age now."

"Oh..."

"You know, I hope she turn out to be as you, Natalie... But just a little bit happier. You're too... stressed for being so young!"

"Aye, I've been told so quite a lot of times." She giggled.

"What about you?"

"What 'bout me what?"

"Have _you_ ever fell in love, mon cher?"

Natalie instantly shook her head.

"Nay. I don't believe in love..."

"Well that's terribly sad; a young pretty girl who doesn't believe in love!"

"Don't worry, I believe in _loads_ of other stuff to make up for that. B'sides, it's not as if I never went out on a date; I just... have the worst luck pickin' guys..." She looked down. "Nay, love is not for me..."

The man looked at her and his heart ached; she had a really kind heart- when you tore apart all the walls of bitterness and annoyance- and was really brave- she was _alone_, in a foreign country, basically one step away from ending like him, and still she was _trying_. She didn't give up; she didn't flee home with her tail between her legs.

Truly a shame she had nobody around to make her truly _happy_. Not contented, not alright, but _happy_.

Someone who could make her laugh and just have some _fun_ and be simply carefree as a young woman like her should be.

Truly a shame...

* * *

Jack Frost had certainly been shocked at the girl's reaction.

Then he had been disappointed.

Then perhaps a little bit intrigued.

Then frustrated.

And then, he just felt challenged- and _boy_, he absolutely _loved_ challenges.

So he had made a personal promise to somehow, make an actual conversation with this girl that didn't include her closing her door on his face and demanding him to disappear from her property.

...Except it was a lot harder when the girl had been purposely ignoring him and Jamie. The boy had felt as if by just for some reason it had been his fault, and solemnly vowed to- somehow- make it better. So he told Jack about his thousand-and-one plans to get Natalie to like him, whichever was her reason to show such a great distaste towards the spirit.

Of course that when they saw the girl riding in a pickup truck next to some guy- who was he anyway? Her _boyfriend_ or something? - And they realised that she actually _hid_ from Jack, the Guardian instantly knew that _none_ of Jamie's plans would work.

So it was up to him to think of something so fantastically awesome that simply blew her mind away and make her realise of how wonderfully incredible he actually was!

That being said, he had no idea whatsoever of what to do.

So when nightfall was coming, he flew up to his favourite spot on the woods, to carefully trace his plan. However, he had forgotten that the place seemed to be her favourite spot too... Honestly he was quite surprised to find her all by herself- ignoring the bunny- on the lake, at night. Didn't she know that could be dangerous?

Silly girl...

He still perched on a tall branch and decided on just watch her for the time being, partly because of his curiosity towards the girl, partly because he was actually afraid that if he showed himself in front of her she'd rip the smile right off his face and bark him to get _away_ simply because she wasn'tin the _mood_ for some lame winter spirit.

So he just watched her, he watched her as she sighed and tangled a hand into her hair with her eyes closed, he watched her as she swore under her breath and placed the violin case on the floor, he watched her as she played her music, that music that made him come undone and turned him into a tangle of _feelings_.

Could someone voice her emotion so loud without even the need of a voice?

He watched her as she laid face-flat into the snow and talked to the bunny that liked to keep her company- _Lapin_- about her day and her friends.

"-I guess I could just... return home, maybe. But that'd be cowardice. B'sides, I'd miss Joel and Matthew, and Jean, and even Jamie and Sophie. I'd say I'd miss ye too, but if I went away, I'd take ye with me. Ye're just too cute to be left alone."

Then she felt silent, and Jack took that as sign to make his move.

He descended from his branch as quietly as he was able to, and furtively approached the immobile girl on the ground. He stood up next to her, just looking, and when she still made no move- apparently not caring at all that the snow was _cold_- he just _had_ to laugh.

Natalie moaned something that sounded terribly familiar to a _'Oh, God, _no" and stood up, slowly, to face him. Both spent the best part of three minutes just _looking _at each other, Jack carefully studying the girl in front of him.

She had her short black hair matted to her face, her thick fringe dripping wet with snow chunks here and there. She was on the short side, slim- though not athletic; no, perhaps with that fashionable haircut and her somewhat long legs she could have passed as a model. Except for, you know, the fact that that she stood with her shoulders slumped, head slightly angled to the ground, and that _magnificent_ glare in her black eyes. Her eyes he studied then; they were the colour of coal, the colour of night, with no real shine on them.

He was about to do something, _anything_, when she suddenly started backing up slowly, her eyes never leaving his face, as if he was some sort of predator and she was the helpless pray trying to escape. Jack cocked his head to the side, confused... then she turned around and started to run away.

The Guardian snapped out of his stupor and realised what was going on, and in a panic rush, he shouted a rushed "_Wait!"_, and stomped his staff on the ground, making ice spring out of the land and trapping Natalie's feet in some sort of icy prison. Of course, she hadn't expected that, alas, she fell on the ground.

Jack flinched, okay, so he might have overreacted a bit... he just hoped she wasn't hurt right now. Carefully he approached her, gulping. She somehow managed to stand up once again- her feet still trapped- and looked at him with fervent rage.

Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned.

"What the Hell?! Let me _go_!" She screamed at him, her accent thicker with her fuming rage.

"No! I mean, why did you run away?! Both times!" His tone slightly frantic.

"Why d'ye care, _spirit_?!"

"Because I want to talk to you!"

"Why?!"

"Because you're the only human being near my age that _can see me_!"

"Oh, boo-hoo; go cry to yer room!"

Something inside Jack snapped, and he raised his voice until he was screaming at her a top of her lungs, the same tone she was using to scream at him. But hey, she was being so _difficult!_

"You're the most exasperating woman I've ever met!"

"Then let me _go_!"

"NO!"

"WHY?!"

"I TOLD YOU I WANT TO TALK TO YOU!"

"INFURIATIN' WINTER SPIRIT!"

"MADDENING CRAZY GIRL!"

Okay, let's make a note here that Jack had no way whatsoever to predict what she did next- and maybe even Natalie couldn't have predicted her own impulse. She lunged herself forward with all her weight, the momentum somehow breaking the ice she was being held captive into.

And she threw herself at Jack Frost.

And both were rolling on the snow, throwing insults at each other and basically blowing off the steam both had built inside. However, Jack was still stronger than Natalie, and he managed to stop their movement, encaging the girl under his own body, his arms holding her wrists to avoid any possible physical attack she might want to try.

Except she wasn't fighting him anymore; nope.

She was _laughing_. Hard.

And her barks of laughter were _almost_ as impolite as herself. The Guardian felt his own anger disappear, and be replaced with utter bewilderment.

"Are you insane...?" He asked slowly.

"It's just- It's just...!" She inhaled deeply, trying to calm herself. "I just had a wrestlin' match with Jack Frost. On the snow. Could my life get any weirder?"

She smiled at him, her mood incredibly improved. Well, he guessed she just needed to find a way to let all her anger and annoyance- he still didn't know _why_ was she so annoyed anyway- escape her body.

Soon enough he started laughing too, and Natalie shut up to hear his laughter. Damn. It was a pretty damn good laughter, she was envious of it.

Then again, he was an immortal winter sprite, so yeah.

Jack fell silent too, and their silence became awkward, he still on top of her. He looked at the girl, completely dishevelled and covered in snow. Well... to be honest, winter certainly looked good on her.

"I just want to talk." He told her. "Pretty please?"

"_Fine_. Just... don't try anythin' funny."

He got off her and offered her a hand- which she refused-; then he looked around to find the staff he had lost on the brawl. He grabbed it once again, feeling the familiar tingling in his fingers at the flow of his powers.

Natalie grabbed her violin case and took Lapin in her arms, smiling at the fact that despite all the noise and commotion the animal was still standing by her instrument, almost a tiny fluffy guardian of sorts. She and Jack walked into the woods, and sat down on a fallen tree.

"So..." He started, now completely unsure as for what to say.

"Why did ye want to talk to me so much anyway?"

He sighed.

"Well, I'm a three hundred and eighteen year old spirit; and before last year, _nobody_ could see me. That's a long time alone."

"Sucks to be ye"

"_Thanks_. Anyway, then a whole lot of crazy stuff happened, and some kids started to believe in me. They finally could _see_ me. Do you have any idea of how thrilled I was?" He didn't wait for her to answer. "And I love them, I mean; I am a _Guardian_ for God's sake, but still..."

"Ye want company from someone who's closer to yer age, I get it. How old are ye, biologically speakin', I mean?"

"Eighteen."

"Same here. So... anyway... what '_crazy stuff'_ happened last year...?"

"You _really_ want to know?"

"Does it look as if I have somethin' more important to do right now?"

He chuckled at her.

And he told her. He told her everything- about the other Guardians, about Pitch and his crazy plan to take over the world with fear, about how he regained his memories, about who he had been before being Jack Frost, and why the Man in the Moon chose him to be a Guardian. Surprisingly enough, Natalie was quite a good listener- when she wasn't throwing a snide remark here or there.

"And what about you?" He finally said. "Who are you, exactly?"

"Natalie Nightingale, it has a nice ring, hasn't it? Anyway... I was born in Scotland, daughter of two amazin' musicians who taught me to believe in every impossible and told me every story and legend around. Then there was an accident... I was six years old, and was stayin' at a friend's house. Even at six I knew what the word 'orphan' meant... So then I started an amazin' parade of going from foster home to foster home; either I'd escape, or the people that adopted me got tired of me too soon... So I never made many friends, except for one." She smiled faintly. "But that's a story for another day. Anyway, finally, when I was by the age of thirteen, I was adopted by some old family friend I had never heard of before. He's a rich man back home, Fergus McIntyre, and he took me under his wing, treatin' me like some sort of niece. He's the one that bought me all my instruments and gave me the means to exploit my inherited talent.

Last year I finally decided that I wanted to study music for a living, and the college I attend to is s'pposed to be one of the most renowned ones or somethin'. So yeah... I came here almost a year ago... and that's basically my story so far. Heh, ye can guess how much teen angst I had while growing up..."

"_Had_? Because right, you're not like, angry now or anything..." She found his sarcasm delightful.

"I'm not _angry_ right now... I'm just _annoyed_. There are a lot of things that annoy me, that's the thing..."

"Right."

Silence again.

"So... Something tells me that I'm not the first spirit you met..."

"Nay, ye're not. Ye'd be surprised to know how many little sprites and myths are in Scotland. I've met my fair share b'fore, and all ye immortal beings tend to be nosy, tricky... I once met a Kelpie that tried to force me into ridin' it, the sneaky bastard. But I've never met anybody, ye know, important or anythin' like those Guardians ye told me 'bout."

He nodded. She was proving to be an interesting companion so far.

"It's getting late, you should return home." He told her, looking around at the lack of light.

"Aye, I've got class t'morrow." She let go of the rabbit in her lap, and watched as the creature returned to his warren.

"Want me to take you home?" He offered with a smile.

Natalie looked at him, eyes squinting.

"Just the fact that I was able to have a pleasant chat with ye doesn't mean I trust ye. I don't."

Jack winced. Okay, he should have been expecting something like that.

"Fine, fine, don't get so defensive... goodbye, I guess?"

She stood up and grinned at him.

"Aye... see ye..."

And he looked at her walk away slowly... Before she could wander too far, however, he shouted after her.

"How do I make you trust me?!"

She turned around, hand in her pockets.

"The same way the Little Prince tamed his fox!"

...What?

"Ye must be very patient, keep yer distance 'til I get used to ye, and respect the proper rites!"

"What's a 'rite'?!"

"Those also are actions too often neglected!" She quoted by heart.

And then she walked away without any further word.

* * *

**I just love The Little Prince. And Natalie's awkwardness.**


	4. Fall and fur

**Okay, the first part of this chapter might be one of my favourite ones so far, so yeah. Enjoy!**

* * *

Natalie walked alone through the dark streets of Burgess, her head hanging low, her lazy steps the only sound around- except for perhaps, a stray cat or two looking for some food.

She had no rush at all; it was not as if her apartment was going anywhere or anything, and she had had a pleasant day, all in all.

Then she heard a sound that she knew very well, she had heard it many times while growing up.

_Shit_.

Natalie rubbed her temples and turned around, looking for the owner of the sound; she jumped when she realised that the creature was standing right behind her.

"Nobody told ye it's rude to stand so close to a person? Back off. Ye're in my personal bubble."

The creature receded a few steps, and half-sobbed half-screamed again. Natalie studied it for a couple if seconds; it looked like a woman in her thirties, with long black hair, faded skin, a long, tattered greyish dress, and the most sorrow-filled expression Natalie ever saw. She wailed again, and Natalie scratched her head.

It was a Banshee alright. But what would a Banshee be doing in there?

"Are ye lost or somethin'?" She asked, unsure of why would it follow her.

The Banshee looked at her in the eyes and denied with her head, making a few tears fall from her grey eyes in the process.

"...D'ye need, maybe, a favour?" It wouldn't be the first time a spirit asked something from her; damned be those creatures who seemed to _know_ who could see them and who couldn't.

Then Natalie noticed there was something in the Banshee's hands, it looked like some cloth, bloodstained and wet, as if the sprite had been trying to wash it off. But of course, Natalie mentally slapped herself; Banshees were known for be seen washing the clothes of the one that was about to die; they were also tied to a certain family.

Moved by some morbid curiosity, Natalie eyed the clothing carefully.

"Who's that from?" She simply asked.

The Banshee raised her hands so that she could see a tartan patterned trench coat, with reds and greens and whites.

"...That's my favourite coat..." The girl said, incredulously. "But what...? Why...? I should've seen ye b'fore... when my parents..." She ran a hand through her hair. "I mean, if I've seen ye b'fore I'd certainly remember that..."

The spirit simply showed her the bloodstained coat again.

"Though ye could very well be Fergus' family Banshee too...That'll be very...unorthodox, but still..."

Another wail.

"Then this means I'm 'bout to... _no_. I've always thought that b'sides a Banshee, I'll see a-"

Suddenly, a howl, high-pitched, terrible, that made her heart race.

"Ye gotta be kiddin' me..."

Natalie turned around as fast as she could, and well enough, three monstrous hounds were running at her; one white with red ears, one black with red eyes, and the other one dark green, with shaggy fur and a braided tail.

"Three...? Are ye serious?" She absentmindedly patted the white dog's enormous head.

Three Black Dogs. One of them even the green Cû-Sith himself.

"Why there are three of ye?" She eyed the creature behind her. "_And_ a Banshee. I'm not that important... and I'm not dyin'. Ye sure this ain't some misunderstandin'? I might be dead inside, but still...I don't think that's a reason for _three_ Black Dogs appearin' wanting to guide my soul to the afterlife..."

The Cû-Sith grabbed her sleeve and tugged to get her attention.

"What it is? Calm down..." She looked at the direction the sprite was motioning her to. "A... will-o'-the-wisp?"

She closed her eyes firmly, and opened them once again. Yes, the little floating light was _still_ there, some distance away from her. Now, everything she had heard about them wasn't exactly good, they were supposed to guide to the doom of lost travellers that followed them in curiosity.

The Cû-Sith tugged once again, trying to make her follow the floating thing.

"I don't think that's the best idea, boy, calm down!"

The Banshee sobbed, and from behind her, gently pushed her into the direction of the Wisp too, trying to get her to move. The other two Black Dogs were running barking and howling towards it already.

Natalie whistled after them, trying to stop them and make them turn back.

"No! Come here! That light is _bad_!" But she was running towards it too- when had that happened?- with the green dog in front of her, tugging her forward, and the Banshee behind, pushing her gently.

She ran in a heart-racing, mind-shattering chase, her lungs burning- why couldn't she be _slightly_ more athletic? - With her immortal escorts beside her through the deserted streets of Burgess, passing by buildings and windows that were no more than a blur.

And suddenly there was not only one Will-o'-the-Wisp, but millions and millions of them, in front of her, behind her, surrounding her, laughing with a twinkling laughter... and where once streets where, trees started to spring until she was running through a dark forest she was _sure_ she had seen before, but it couldn't be _here_!

She was in Scotland. That forest was the one surrounding her uncle's castle.

The improvised hunt party finally stopped when they arrived to the verge of a cliff- she surely didn't remember that being there- and Natalie gazed down, to an endless black. A fall like that would surely snap her neck in two like it was some twig.

She staggered away from the edge, gulping, and looked from the Banshee to the three Black Dogs, trying to find the answer to her questions. The Wisps were still around them, filling the darkness with their eerie cold light.

"Tis a dream." Natalie assured herself, looking at the Cû-Sith in the eyes. The huge dog cocked his head sheepishly, conceding her the argument. "Tis a dream!" She exclaimed, still confused by what was going on around her. Suddenly the Banshee moved forward, past her, and a black cage materialised in the air; it looked like an oversized version of a canary's cage. The Banshee entered there, and sat on the ground, sobbing and crying and holding Natalie's trench coat in her hands, trying to clean the blood off the garment.

"What's...what's...?" Natalie couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence, her vision enthralled by the Banshee, who now wasn't holding her coat, but was holding _her_.

At least, a very much dead and bloody version of her, her bones broken at odd angles, her black eyes open and lifeless while the Banshee mourned her death and ran her faded fingers through her hair, almost resembling the loving gesture of a mother.

Natalie's hands flew to her mouth in shock, unable to tear her gaze from the horrifying vision of her dead self inside the cage.

"Tis not a dream..." She heard herself saying. "Tis a nightmare..."

And then a sudden gust of wind pushed her, making her trip over the edge of the cliff, the last thing she saw were the three hounds staring at her, almost in pity, while howling their terrifying howls.

She was falling, falling, falling... enveloped in the total darkness, her cheeks wet with tears. A laugh suddenly filled the place- wherever she was- and it was maddening, mocking, haunting; it made her want to escape, to run away as fast as she could- but she couldn't so she wouldn't.

"A nightmare! Nothin' but a nightmare!" She was sure of it, but it wasn't any less scary anyway. She shut her eyes tightly and waited for her inevitable fatal collision with the hard ground... but it never came. When she opened her eyes she _was already_ sitting on the cold ground, except that she never felt the fall. And there were shadows looming over her, cackling with madness and she was afraid, oh so afraid, she felt like a little girl that wanted to bury her face in mommy's skirt.

But mommy was dead, wasn't she?

She was alone.

A shadow stood taller than the rest, and even if she couldn't see its features, it emanated some sort of _fear_ from itself, making her tremble ever so slightly. The shadow got closer and closer and she closed her eyes once again.

_Open your eyes and stand up, you fool._

Where had that voice came from?

It was... warm and comforting. Wait.

She _knew_ that voice.

She did as the voice commanded, and realised she was not alone anymore. In front of her, shining as the sun with swirls of gold and red and orange, there was a lion. A lion that was roaring to the shadows, until they all shrunk and vanished, except for that tall one; the both apparently engaged in a staring contest for five minutes, until the lion roared again and the shadow scattered away, like a beaten puppy.

Natalie felt the rush of heat and warmth through her body, the presence of the lion making all her fear go away. The animal turned around and looked at her gravely.

"Long time no see." She told him.

And then she woke up.

* * *

She found herself on the floor, tangled between her sheets. Well, it would appear that she somehow fell from her bed while she was immersed in the bad dream. She pushed her curiosity for the possible meaning of the dream to the back of her head, and got dressed. Then she walked into her minuscule kitchen, and poured herself some cereal into a bowl. She was about to grab the milk; when she heard some scratching by her front door. Scratching that sounded a dog's paws.

"If I just dreamed that I was dreamin' and tis still part of the dream, I'm goin' to kill someone. Possibly the imaginary Black Dog that's outside my door."

The scratching again.

Oh well, it was no use to make the dream wait. She walked up to the door and opened it, hoping to find some oversized green hound- or maybe black, or white- but her mouth fell open instead.

Well...

It was canine.

But it was certainly no dog.

"...What are _ye_ doin' here!? I though ye were at Scotland!"

The creature looked at her curiously, and whined sheepishly. Natalie looked at it. It was incredibly tall and standing on its hind legs, with the head of a wolf and the body resembling that of a man's, covered in thick, dark brown fur, with a wolfish tail.

It suddenly leaped onto Natalie and started to lick her face.

"Get _off_ ye mutt on steroids! Off, Fang, off!"

After she managed to get him off her- and clean the saliva on her face- she stared at him, her hands on her hips.

"Fang, ye should be back home. Fishin' and stuff. Did ye follow me?"

He whined and looked at her with puppy eyes that looked incredibly ridiculous judging the creature's size.

"Fine, fine. Just... Listen, I've got class in an hour. Ye stay here until I think what to do with ye... and do _not_ break anythin'."

Oh well. At least it was Friday.

* * *

Of course that when she returned home, it looked like a nuclear bomb had exploded in there. And in between all the chaos and mess of ripped sheets, a broken vase, and a _lot_ of ruined music sheets, there was a sleeping wolf-like creature.

"FANG!" Natalie cried.

The spirit opened his eyes instantly.

"I just-! I told ye _not_ to-! ARGH!"

However, the creature was saved from her rage by Natalie's phone ringing. She recognised the number and took the call, massaging her temple with her other hand.

"'ello Mrs. Bennett, somethin' the matter?"

"Ahh... you see, I was planning on going with Sophie and Jamie to visit my parents this weekend, and I already have everything set... but Jamie's sick. Nothing to worry about, but he's with a bit of a cold..."

"Want me to stay with him for the weekend?"

"I know it's a lot to ask but, well, could you?"

"Sure. " And she hung up.

Then she looked at the creature on her floor.

"Ye comin' with me. I don't trust ye to be left alone on my apartment... or anywhere else, for that matter."

* * *

Natalie entered the house with the extra set of keys that were below the welcome carpet, and walked into the living room; Fang behind her, sniffing the new place with curiosity.

"Jamie?" She called.

Soon enough she heard the small rushed steps descending the stairs, and a sick-looking Jamie appeared sniffing.

"Natalie! Mom said you were coming and-" He looked at the creature behind her. Then his mouth opened in a perfect 'o'. "Is... that... Is that a werewolf?!"He asked unbelievably.

Natalie chuckled.

"Nay. Werewolves are shapeshifters; Fang here is a Wulver. Unlike werewolves, he was never a man, and he's not aggressive. And he loves fishin'." She gently grazed the creature's muzzle with her fingers. "But he can be _really_ undisciplined."

Jamie sniffed once again, and kept on looking at the Wulver with bright round eyes.

"Shouldn't ye be upstairs, in bed?" Natalie asked the boy.

"I...guess..." He said. "Come up with me! Jack's going to love Fang!"

"Jack is...here...?" Natalie asked, a little bitterly.

The boy nodded.

"He felt guilty because I got sick for being too much in the snow with him, and he's making me some company"

"Figures."

The three of them- the Wulver included- climbed up the stairs and entered Jamie's room. Natalie looked at the winter spirit, floating on his back with his eyes closed, humming under his breath.

Well, he certainly knew how to relax.

Unlike her.

Damned Jack Frost.

* * *

Jamie fell asleep soon enough, and Natalie exited his room, followed by Jack and Fang. The three got into the living room, and while Jack and Natalie sat on the couch, the Wulver decided to lay by the girl's feet, on the floor.

She smiled at that, and Jack chuckled.

"The closer thing to a pet I ever had." She told the winter spirit.

"How did you meet him?"

"Oh, I was around... twelve, maybe. And I had just run away from the home I had at that time, and I stumbled into a lake. In the middle of the lake there was a stone, and he was sittin' on the stone with a rod on his hands, fishin'. I don't know why he took a likin' to me, but he started followin' after that, like some sort of oversized mythical dog-like pet. Good luck most people can't see him, or I'd be in trouble..." She looked at Jack. "What are ye doin' here anyway? Ye don't have to stick around now that I'm here to keep an eye on Jamie."

Jack quirked an eyebrow.

"You want me to leave?"

"Actually I want to watch some television re-runs and chill on my own while Fang sleeps at my feet. So aye, I wouldn't mind I ye left."

"Perfect, then I'll stay."

She shot him a dirty look.

"...Soddin' stubborn spirit."

Jack just laughed and laced his hands behind his head.

"You'll learn to love me, you'll see. I'm amazing."

"An' with an ego of the size of Australia..."

He just laughed again.

Natalie remembered something, and looked at Jack, this time she had a serious face.

"Hey... remember what ye told me 'bout that Pitch guy...?"

"I don't think I'll ever be able to forget him, why?"

"I just... had a weird dream last night. A nightmare."

Jack opened his mouth. Then he closed it again.

"No. We defeated him. _No_. I'm sure it was just a coincidence, Natalie, there's no way he can be... just no."

She nodded.

"Okay, I just wanted to make sure of that."

She turned on the television and started flipping through the channels, finally stopping on one of her favourite's movies: The Lord of the Rings- the Two Towers.

She smiled at herself and burrowed on the couch, her legs against her chest, her eyes looking intently at the screen, and barely managing to stop herself from sighing each time Aragorn did something cool.

"I don't get it, and you say all that fuss is because of a ring?" Jack interrupted her thoughts.

"Not _a_ ring, _the_ ring. With it Sauron would bring darkness forever upon the Middle Earth."

"And that's a bad thing, right?"

"_Aye_, Jack, that's pretty _bad_."

"Who's that giant tree anyway?"

"Treebeard. He's old and awesome, that's all ye need to know."

"And why do the elf and the dwarf compete between each other so much?"

"That's 'cause dwarves and elves have this ancient quarrel between them, 'cause Legolas'- the elf- father, Thranduil, was too busy bein' a dwarf racist and refused to help them while a dragon destroyed their home."

"But that's not in this movie?"

"Nay."

"Okay, but why-?"

"Jack. Shut up and watch the movie unless ye want me to bludgeon ye."

"Last time you tried, _I_ won..."

"Just shut up."

"_Fine_..."

* * *

The movie was long.

Really long.

So long that Natalie fell asleep, her head on Jack's shoulder. He wanted to move, he _could_ have moved, but...

First, waking her would have been rude.

Second, he was slightly afraid of the weird sour girl. And she had a huge wolf-like mythical monster on her side.

So he just stayed still, _very_ still, and sighed.

It was going to be a long night.

* * *

**Sooo hope you liked it!**


	5. Bindings and bonds

**I just want to make a side note that the first part of the conversation when Jack is trying to wake up Natalie happened to me for real. A friend of mine fall asleep on me and he didn't want to wake up... even when it was 6 am already and the party was over and we needed to **_**go**_**. **

**Friendship... ain't it nice?**

* * *

The sun was shining bright and warm; the grass tickled her barefoot feet... She was dreaming, Natalie could very clearly see that. And she thanked that it was not a nightmare now.

Looking around herself she realised that she was wearing a dark green dress, and that she was in Scotland once again, on top of a hill, looking at the sun that was starting to set. She felt a presence next to her, and looked at the lion that shone like a symphony of golds underneath the sun; but he was no lion now, he was a man, standing with his arms crossed and a stern look.

"You still remember our deal?" He told her, not even bothering to look at her.

"Aye, sir."

"And you still want to go on with it?"

"If deals could be broken then they wouldn't be deals. We agreed so, it can't be changed, and ye know that; why are ye askin' me?"

The man nodded his head, the trace of a smirk on his lips.

"I just wanted to make sure you knew that. On the other hand, every contract has its loopholes; you still could try to get out of it if you _really_ wanted..."

"Nay, sir. I gave my word already; I plan on goin' with it till the end."

"You gave your word when you were eleven."

"_You_ offered me the deal when _I_ was eleven." She quirked her eyebrow.

He sighed, and finally looked at her.

"You're growing up quite right."

"Thanks?"

"Remember... if you're still a part of this... neither bonds nor bindings..."

"I _know_ that already. I haven't fallen in love, I am not betrothed, nor have a child. Nor bonds or bindings that might tie me; no people that might need of me to stick around."

"I've seen you made some friends though... and it's not as if were avoiding men who might make you fall for them..."

"Ye can't expect me to be _completely_ alone all my life; I'd go insane. B'sides I'm not a prude, I'm _not_ the innocent girl ye met. But I respect our deal; I don't fall in love, as I say I wouldn't."

He seemed to think about it for some minutes.

"Very well then, for as long as you respect the bases of our contract..."

"Thank ye, by the way. For last night I mean." She smiled at him with adoration.

"Don't thank me, Natalie; I was just doing my job. And now you wake up and go do your own."

"Aye... no bonds or bindings..."

* * *

"Natalie."

"Mhhmm..."

"Natalie, come on."

"Shut up..."

"Wake up Natalie..."

"Shut up man, ye know nothin'!"

"I...know nothing about _what_...?"

"'bout life!"

"Okay...?"

"Let me sleep..."

"No, you have to wake up, come on. You're sleeping _on_ me..."

"So what? Ye make a good pillow..."

Jack sighed.

"You need to wake up and make breakfast for Jamie, since, you know, I'm a freaking spirit and I really don't know how to cook."

Only then she heard the small giggling at some point behind her. Jamie was up alright.

"Oh, _fine_."

Reluctantly, she opened her black eyes and found Jack's icy ones, closer to her than what she would have expected. She cursed herself for moving around so much in her sleep, because apparently, somehow- only God knew _how _exactly- she had fumbled around until she was hugging Jack's middle tightly, her head resting on his chest, making the spirit fall to a lying position on the couch.

She blinked a couple of times, and he smiled a cocky grin.

"See? I told you you'd learn to love me, now you can't let go of me!"

Damned be Jack Frost, and damned be the mornings.

"Insufferable bloody spirit..." She got off him and stretched.

Then she turned around and saw Jamie standing there, with Fang in a corner of the room, sniffing some books.

"Ye certainly look a lot better, don't ye?" She told the boy.

"I feel better too!" He sniffed. "Well... almost..."

Natalie chuckled.

"Aye, nothin' like a good night of sleep to make wonders in ye."

"Oh? Speaking for experience, are we?" Jack said in a casual voice behind her, and she could guess the smirk on his lips.

"...Insufferable bloody spirit, I damn yer name three times..." She muttered.

Jamie giggled at her. He had woken up in the morning, in the good mood of feeling almost completely normal again, and had descended the stairs to look for his friends... and he had found Natalie fast asleep cuddling into Jack, while the spirit looked at her caught in between amusement, confusion, and a pained expression. He seemed like he didn't know exactly how to wake her up without avoiding a possible upcoming storm of... whatever the girl could come up with now.

Now that she was up and shining- and had swatted Jack across the chest in after he annoyed her too much- she told the boy to sit on the table while she made some pancakes or something.

Jack followed her into the kitchen.

* * *

"What's that?"

"_Out _of my kitchen, _Frost_."

"Well, technically it's not _yours-"_

"Get out, or so God help me-"

"Okay, I'll make a note for future reference that you're cranky in the morning. More than usual, I mean."

"Mornings are _evil_... Why don't ye go pester Jamie anyway?"

"Nah, you're more _fun_ to be around, and after all, I'm the Guardian of Fun!" He beamed at her.

Natalie grumbled something under her breath and proceeded to start mixing the ingredients together, in almost robotic motions, while Jack floated around her, simply looking at what she was doing. Finally he had understood that hovering around her annoying the wits out of her would take him nowhere and that if he actually wanted to be her "friend" or whatever he would have to respect her space and...

He dipped his finger into the batter and licked it off.

Oh, the audacity.

"Oh _no_ ye didn't! _Out!"_

"What? But I was just-"

"OUT. NOW."

And she not-so-gently pushed him outside the kitchen, slamming the door after he was out.

"And don't even _try_ to get in again, ye hear me?" She commanded through the door.

"You know, you could _really_ use some fun, such a shame that, oh, I don't know, nobody here is a _damn spirit of winter, Guardian of Fun_, right?" He replied, testing the door's handle. Yep, she had locked it alright.

"Because there's _nothin'_ creepy _at all_ when some guy who I'm not even _friends_ with offers to give me some _fun_. Honestly, _Frost_, ye should learn how to speak to a girl."

"I don't see any girls around, just some crazy woman with a really serious anger management problem!"

"I am _not_ angry! I'm just annoyed! _Ye _annoy me!"

He snorted.

"Now go and busy yerself with somethin', _shoo_!"

He put his hands in his pockets and went over to Jamie, who was petting Fang, while the huge creature behaving like a tiny puppy.

"Well, that went well..." He commented to the boy.

"Just give her time! She's not _that_ bad..."

* * *

"_Please..."_

Natalie tore her gaze from her book- _the Wise Man's Fear-_ and sighed for the millionth time that day.

"No."

"_Please_, Natalie, I feel so much better right now!" He pleaded once again.

"Come on, going out for just a couple of hours couldn't be _that_ bad for him..." Jack offered, from a point near the window.

"First of all, _ye_" She looked at the spirit. "Have no sayin' at all on this. Ye were the one that made him sick, so shut up" She looked at the brunette boy again "And _no_, Jamie, I'm responsible for what happens to ye, ye _can't_ go out to play on the snow today."

"But I'm _bored! _It should be illegal to be bored on a Saturday!"

"He's got a point, you know..." the Guardian was casually- _too casually- _inspecting his staff.

"Okay, ye two go and tell the president to make a law sayin' that... oh, wait, right, Jamie's underage, and nobody would see Snowflake..."

Jack blinked.

"That was cold, Natalie, you wound me" He told her, with big, puppy eyes. "And besides... _Snowflake_?" He simply shook his head "You could've done better than that, I know."

"I _need_ to go out, Natalie, I'm dying in here!" Jamie threw himself at the girl's lap, knocking the book out of her hands.

"Hey! I was 'bout to reach my favourite part!"

"Sorry..." The boy said sheepishly.

Jack looked at the book on the floor and picked it up curiously, and read aloud a paragraph that was marked with pencil.

"_I have heard what poets write about women. They rhyme and rhapsodize and lie. I have watched sailors on the shore stare mutely at the slow-rolling swell of the sea. I have watched old soldiers with hearts like leather grow teary-eyed at their king's colors stretched against the wind._

_Listen to me: these men know nothing of love._

_You will not find it in the words of poets or the longing eyes of sailors. If you want to know love, look to a trouper's hands as he makes his music."_ Jack looked at the girl curiously. "I guess that's your favourite part, huh? Suits you; but that's everything you like? Music, seriously, nothing else?"

She huffed in indignation.

"I happen to like a wide range of things, mind ye." She went to snatch the book out of his hands, but he just held it high above her head.

Damn Jack Frost and his height.

"Really?" He asked her.

"Really!" Natalie was standing on her tiptoes trying to reach her book.

"Such as...?" He mocked, his famous cocky grin on his lips.

"I like coffee! And I like a warm shower in the mornin'! And the sound of the old church's bells at noon!" Almost there... he moved again, making the book unreachable- _again_.

"Yeah? What else?"

"Well... I like legends and myths! And sittin' in front of a fireplace with a good book; I like goin' to a decent pub every once in a while..." She stopped jumping up and down. "And I like the feeling of steppin' barefoot into the crunchy autumn leaves... and I _adore_ fluffy bunnies; and oh- I _love _winter, it's just so _beautiful_ with the snow and-" She put a hand on her mouth when she realised what she had just said.

Jack grinned.

"Oh? You _love_ winter? You think it's _beautiful_? Why thanks!" He made a reverence "That's the best compliment you could give me!"

She sighed, defeated.

"Jack?"

"Yes, Natalie?"

"I hate you."

"Charming"

"_Natalie..._" Jamie kept on.

"I said _no_, Jamie, if yer mother comes backs and yer even sicker, she'll have my skin..."

The boy was about to reply something, but then Natalie's phone started to ring. The girl grabbed it from her front pocked and looked at the number, smirking.

"Morgue~" She said in a sing sang voice.

Jack raised his eyebrows, and she waved her hand in dismissal.

"Nightingale I just been offered- wait what?" Said a rough voice through her phone.

The girl snickered.

"Nothin' Matthew. What is it?"

She heard the older guy sigh at the other side of the phone.

"I have a proposal to make you for next Tuesday night. There's money on the line."

"_Now_ ye're talkin', I knew I liked ye for a reason."

* * *

Jack was hovering around a dark Burgess, casually floating by and throwing one snowball or two at some people below him, laughing and enjoying himself.

And then he saw her.

He descended and looked at her, a couple of steps ahead of him. Yep, there was no doubt, that was Natalie alright; the black violin case in her hand confirming it for him. But why was she...?

He shook his head and sneaked up on her, as quietly as he could.

"Looking fancy tonight" He commented.

The girl jumped; a fact that made him smile. After the mini-heart attack, she mumbled something about 'damn spirits who just appeared whenever they wanted to' and turned around, her free hand at her hip.

Jack had to do a double take of her attire.

The times he had seen her, she was usually wearing jeans and shirts, sometimes an elegant coat to block the cold, but it was usually casual clothes.

Right now there was nothing casual about what she was wearing.

Natalie was wearing a sleeveless black dress- maybe a little too short, mind you- with a low cut at the back that hugged her frame. The black heels on her feet elongated her- already somewhat long- legs, and she was wearing silver earrings and a necklace.

She had even put on some dark make up, and a gush of wind told Jack that she was wearing some sort of perfume.

She looked... well. _Good_.

Jack whistled.

"You even look like a civil human being" He told her.

"Jack, I'm seriously startin' to believe ye have nothin' better to do than follow me 'round pesterin' me."

He shrugged.

"You're just at the right time at the right moment, Natalie."

She started walking once again, and Jack floated lazily next to her.

"Where are you going anyway? All dressed up I mean."

"Ye'll see."

Soon enough both arrived to the park, where there was a lot going on. People were crowding waiting for _something_ around a stage, filled with lights and _more people_ going on, checking a lot of cables and just rushing by looking really stressed.

"Apparently, the city council thought that Burgess should have even _more_ spirit regardin' the holidays. So, every Tuesday night until New Year, there is goin' to be a concert on the park. They hired me as a violinist." She explained the spirit.

"That's cool... I guess."

"It is. Means money. I need money."

A tall guy with dark hair approached them, smoking a cigarette and with an annoyed expression. He was wearing an all-black tux, with a black shirt, and a dark silver tie.

"Evenin' Matthew."

"You ready, Natalie?"

"To play music? Always." She smiled.

"Just go up there; you're our first violin, first row in the middle. There's your name on your seat, we start in ten minutes."

She nodded, and Matthew went back- probably to finish the preparations, leaving the girl with Jack once again.

"Who was that?" The spirit asked her.

"Matthew, he's a friend. A couple of years older than me, we go to the same college."

"He looked... intimidating..."

"Oh come on, he's not _that_ bad, he's just... very grumpy... and _way _too tall..."

Jack nodded.

* * *

The Guardian of Fun was comfortably floating above the crowd, waiting for the music to start. He spotted Natalie almost instantly, she was reading one last time the music sheets, making sure she knew the whole rhapsody without mistakes. He saw her making eye contact with some guy- this one had sandy hair and was dressed in the same elegant way as the rest of the musicians- and smirk at him. The guy rolled his eyes, and stood up, taking his trumpet to his lips.

The concert had been going on for a while, and Jack could tell every musician was really skilled and enjoyed what they did for a living. His eyes found Natalie once again, and he studied her.

The light fell on her giving her an almost fairy tale atmosphere, the lights and shadows playing dramatically with each one of her movements. She had her eyes half-lidded, nearly not needing to look at the music sheets, and the ghost of a smile on her dark red lips.

She looked so... relaxed.

So _right_.

Into her own element.

Still, Jack noticed that her motions- and her music- weren't exactly like he had seen before, no. In the lake...

It had been furious and beautiful and haunting, it had been a cry tore from her insides, a powerful statement that used strings as a voice and chords for words.

Here... it was amazing alright; but something wasn't _quite there_. The raw emotions were missing, it was a rehearsed act, her movements were fluent but not natural; her music was mesmerizing but empty.

In that moment, Jack promised to himself that he would hear her playing alone in the lake once again.

She had told him to respect her rites, right?

* * *

**I hope you liked it! And I really like the way Natalie and Jack's relationship going...**

**BTW, I know it was a little bit shorter that the other ones... sorry about that...  
**


	6. Sadness and secrets

**Okay guys, here's the deal, I'm a little bit...not angry, more like annoyed. A little bit. Because of one review that was from a guest. If he/she had an account, I'll simply message him/her, but that's not the case so yeah, I'm saying it here. **

**The review was something like "Hello...? UPDATE?!" or something like that.**

**Woah. Dude. Or girl. Whatever.**

**Don't go around demanding updates- because it wasn't a respectful question about when I would update, I felt it more like an "It's your duty."**

**It's **_**not**_**.**

**And if I don't feel like it, I just won't update for two months if that's what I want, without telling you any reason. I'm not obligated to write on a daily basis. Besides, I have a life, okay? I'm starting college, and I've been busy studying for two exams (Math and Chemistry) which I aced, thanks to me studying. I rock. And after I passed the last one- yesterday- I went to this super long party at a friend's house that literally lasted more than 14 hours, so you know, I slept too little, and when I wake up to read my email- with a little bit of a hangover, mind you-...**

**Just no.**

**Don't go around implying to any author that he or she *must* update, because you certainly don't want a half-decent chapter based just on the fact that I'm guilty, or I didn't respect my usual timings. **

**You can *ask* for when the chapter is going to be uploaded, or ask me to PLEASE update soon. But don't treat me as if I've forgotten of my own writings and as if it was my *work* to update regularly. It's not. I like to do so, I don't like to leave you guys waiting, but when I can't, man, I can't, or I don't feel inspired enough to write, or I'm simply outside doing something more productive instead of being all day in front of a screen just writing for your own entertainment.**

**And besides... really? Not even telling me if you're liking it, if you're not, if you have a favourite part, or any question...? No. Just don't appear out of nowhere, demand an update without telling me even an encouraging word or whatever, and don't even believe for a second that I'm going to do as you say just because you tell me to, in the most impolite way.**

**There are manners. Use them, or life is going to kick you pretty bad.**

**Okay, to the rest of you, I love you, sorry for the rant, it might be biased on the fact that I'm a little bit cranky because of too little sleep (I totally feel like Natalie) but really, I'm a rather easy going girl, any of my friends can tell you that; I just can't stand it when people act so... impolite.**

**I'm not asking for much, just an "I'm liking it (or whatever), can you try to update soon, PLEASE?". Though of course that I love longer reviews as much as any author, you know, it gives me some more perspective of what I'm writing.**

**THAT'S the way to talk to another human being. Being on the internet it's no excuse.**

**Rant over. I'm really sorry for that. **

* * *

Days are usually categorised in good days and bad days.

Though for Natalie it would be more accurate to say not-so-awful days and complete-misery-filled days.

This one was one of the latter.

And she hated herself for that.

She got up and dressed up merely out of habit, because she knew that staying in bed would only cause her to become even more depressed, and thanks, but no; she liked her annoyed state of mind to much to trade it for a depressed one.

She even surprised everybody and stayed quiet for the whole span of classes, just simply minding her own business, no witty remark, no intent of arguing. She was there but she really wasn't.

A ghost that spread an air of melancholy around.

Or something equally poetic.

She pointedly ignored the questioning looks Joel gave her all day, simply because she just did _not_ need pity, nor advice, nor anything.

She just wanted to immerse herself in misery and perhaps a little bit of self-pity, because it was _not_ as if she did that too often, of course.

Right.

Whatever.

It was not until she was almost out of her college and already looking for her car keys- Damn that she was so messy! - That she was captured by the enemy.

The enemy being Matthew this time.

Meaning, she wasn't really looking and bumped into him.

He turned around, a completely nasty remark about her half-wit ready on his tongue, but he stopped when he saw her expression. He simply exhaled the smoke from his cigarette and raised an eyebrow.

"What's the matter with you?"

She looked at him from behind her fringe, and grimaced a bit.

"Nothin', really. I'm _fine_."

"No, of course you're not. You're usually more...angry, pissed off. Now you just look awful."

"Thanks, ye all know how to make a lass feel pretty." She rolled her eyes.

He simply shrugged, and a small smile tugged the corner of his lips.

"Now that's more like it. Now, are you going to tell me?"

She appeared to be considering it for a while, but simply discarded the offer and shook her head.

"Really, it's nothin', don't worry 'bout it."

He nodded and turned around.

Then he turned around once again and faced her.

"Nightingale, do you want to go dinner with me tonight?"

"Are ye askin' me on a _date_?" Her eyebrows shot up.

That was sudden.

He simply grunted.

"What? Don't be stupid, of course not." He rubbed his temples.

"Oh, right, 'cause that didnee sound like an invitation for a date or anythin'" She muttered.

He simply breathed in the smoke of his cigarette once again.

"I meant that you look like you could do with a getaway for an hour or two, I'm just offering you a chance to let you be miserable with company, with no one to actually try to cheer you up."

"Okay, now I don't even now if that's a good or bad thin'. But I like bein' offered food."

"Great, meet me at eight o' clock in the park, the restaurant is near there."

"Matthew? Tis your way of sayin' that ye're my _friend_?" Se grinned at him.

He frowned.

"I _don't_ have friends."

"Of course ye don't..." She smiled.

* * *

"So? Are you going to tell me what's wrong or not?" Matthew asked from behind his glass of wine.

"I'd rather not."

"Come on, _Nightingale_, tell me."

"Why are ye so curious 'bout my life anyway?" She was picking at her pasta without really eating.

He shrugged.

"Honestly? I like you better when you're not so _sad_. It's rather amusing to watch you when you're, you know, you."

"Ye mean ye find it funny to see me complainin' 'bout stuff and glarin' at human beings?"

"_Yes_." He smirked.

"Oh, _fine_. Listen... I'm an orphan, aye?"

"You had already told me that..."

She rolled her eyes at him.

"Aye... well... today is the day. When my parents died, I mean. And I always get the blues 'round this day..." She trailed off, glancing at her glass of water.

Matthew shuffled, not completely knowing how to react, being his antisocial self and all that.

"Ye know, I've always wandered what could've been of me if they hadn't... _left_. But somehow, even if I miss them horribly... I just-" She sighed. "I wouldn't have met ye, or Joel, I wouldn't have come into this country... I wouldn't have met many different... people..."

He looked at her.

"What did you do at this date, back in Scotland?"

"...B'sides mope around and feel sad an' confused?"

"Yes."

She thought about it. She finally smiled at him.

* * *

Jack had been expecting music. That's why he had been standing near the lake, waiting for Natalie.

He had been expecting her to show up with her violin and play her amazing music with crescendos and vibratos; he had been expecting her to come _alone_.

Because she was there indeed.

But no violin.

And with Fang.

Jack just couldn't find good enough words to describe what he was seeing.

Down below, both were sitting on the ice- _his_ ice- in front of a hole that most likely was the consequence of the Wulver's claws.

And they were fishing.

It was an unusual thing to see Natalie sitting there, cross-legged, with some sort of improvised rod, trying to lure fish that swam at the bottom of the frozen lake.

It was more unusual to see the wolf-like creature next to her, sitting calmly, with the rod tightly clasped between his hands- _claws _- , his eyes staring at the hole in front of him.

And there were at least _five_ fish stacked next to Fang.

...While none next to Natalie.

The girl cursed under her breath.

"I swear ye're cheatin' somehow!"

The creature just looked at her, and grinned a toothy- and possibly dangerous- grin.

"Oh, don't look at me like that! Ye _have_ to be cheatin'..."

He just snickered.

"It's past midnight! Even Lapin is asleep on his warren, fish should be asleep too! How'd ye make it?"

Fang whined in a way that clearly said '_years of practice, human'_ and kept on with his activity.

Jack sighed.

Definitely this girl couldn't stop surprising him.

He finally decided to come down and join them on their... activity.

Fang's ears perked up as soon as the spirit hit the floor, and Natalie turned around, eyeing him with a raised eyebrow.

"What are ye doin' here? It's late." She asked him.

He casually sat down next to her.

"I could ask _you_ the same thing." Because he just couldn't tell her that he had been watching her.

"We're _fishin'_" She told him.

Fang nodded enthusiastically.

"Or at least he's doin' so. I'm more like failin' at it."

Fang nodded again, and his ears perked up at something. Smiling- as much as a wolf-like sprite can smile- he tugged from his rod, getting yet _another_ fish out of the cold water.

Natalie sighed and narrowed her eyes.

"_Fine_, aye, I know when to admit that somethin' isn't for me. I'll leave ye to yer... _fishin'_" She said, her tone almost exasperated.

She stood up from the snow and brushed down her black jeans, not really putting much effort into the task. Then she put her hands on her hips and looked at Jack.

"So, what do ye say? Care to join me for a lovely stride on the woods?"

The spirit leaned on his staff and looked at her, an amused half-smile clinging to his lips.

"Why, are you actually _asking_ for my company now, Natalie?"

He was waiting for a snort and a snide remark. Or for her to roll her eyes and start stomping away from him. Or for her to do _something_, anything...

But not giggling like a schoolgirl.

She was behaving really... _un-Natalie_. And he wondered why...

Now that he actually looked at her, she seemed _weird_. And it was more than the fact that she hadn't any instrument attached to her hand. She noticed his stare, and shuffled a little bit.

Really? No disapproving eyebrow?

Huh.

"Sure, a walk through the woods past midnight sounds awesome." He finally said.

"Aye..."

* * *

"So what were you doing there, fishing, anyway?" He asked after a while of being submerged into an awkward silence.

She shrugged.

"Fang likes to fish. I guess I just thought it would be nice to, ye know, do somethin' he likes for a change..."

Yeah right.

He wasn't about to buy that.

"You're a horrible liar, Natalie."

She scoffed at him. Good, that was much more like it.

"Beg yer pardon? Even if I'm lyin', I have no reason whatsoever to tell ye why. We're not _really_ friends."

"Why?"

She stumbled. Okay, that had certainly caught her off guard; people usually just labelled her as an antisocial and shrugged it off. Unless people like Joel, of course, who seemed perfectly able of standing all of her usually foul mood with a smile and just his _goodness_. He could probably smile at a rabid dog that was about to attack him, and even offer the creature a cup of coffee.

She looked back at Jack; he was still expecting an answer.

"I guess that I just don't like to let people in." She told him. "And I've told ye already, ye have to respect rites and respect my space; which ye clearly _don't_ do by followin' me 'round..."

He grimaced.

"Yeah well, I was never too patient for starters." He offered as an apology.

"_Patience is a virtue." _She quoted.

"Where's that from?"

Natalie closed her eyes and tried to think "Honestly, I don't know. It's just a thing that's usually said."

He smiled, and entertained himself by frosting some swirling patterns into a tree.

"So" He commented casually. "How come you're not playing music?"

He heard her sigh and kick some snow- hey! _He_ was the one that had made that snow, and it had been perfectly white and soft, mind you.

"...Today's _not_ a day to play music..." She muttered.

"But it's a day to _go fishing_ with _Fang_?"

She almost applauded at the sarcasm in his voice. Almost.

Natalie just sighed again and sat down, her back against a tree, and she looked up at the starry sky, the ghost of a song instantly clawing its way into her brain...

_Look at the stars, look how they shine for you... And everything you do..._

She shook her head. Nope.

If the stars shone for anyone, it certainly would _not_ be for her. She didn't even like the colour yellow anyway.

Without tearing her gaze from the sky, she felt Jack sitting next to her, a worried expression on his eyes.

"Ye know why I never stayed too long with any foster family?" She asked him out of the sudden, and didn't wait for him to answer. "I was too... troublesome. They thought of me as a little girl with too much imagination. A senseless, foolish child that lived in her world of fairies and legends, who had lost touch with reality since far too young... Heh, ye can guess how that went for me... I was the one that pranced around with Wulvers and comforted Banshees. I howled with Black Dogs, and petted them as if they were just puppies. Even most kids don't believe in those things... I was labelled as mentally unstable- I'm not saying that I'm _not_, by the way. I was never scared of those kinds of creatures... ghosts, myths, spirits; they were all like family to me." She closed her eyes, and put her head on his shoulder, seeking for some sort of solace.

_Then _Jack noticed how _awful_ she must have been feeling, because there was _no way_ that in her normal state she would do something like that, nor confide him with her burdens.

"All of that was for a couple of years, at least." She continued. "Then I realised that _they_ were the reason I was being thrown from place to place, like a cursed item... After all, most spirits _can_ tell somehow when someone can see them, and they usually approach him- or her, in my case. Ye can guess that all sorts of weird stuff happened 'round me... let me tell ye, Kelpies _love_ to fuck shit up. Anyway; I got fed up of all that, aye, it had been fun for a while... But I grew _tired_ of all that stuff eventually- by the time when I was fifteen and already livin' with my uncle. I started to ignore them, the howls at night encouragin' me to run outside and run with them, the wailings askin' for some sort of consolation, the shinin' will-o'-wisps that tried to lure me out. So... I was pretty much isolated from _both_ people _and_ magical creatures- not that I particularly cared, actually. I've already told ye how much teenage angst I had, I don't really need to be surrounded by people to be happy or anythin', so I never had many friends, except for one, but that's not really the point. And then I was just, tired of it all, so I came here... ye know, to put some distance from well, _everythin'_. And _then_ ye appeared." She threw him a dirty look from her spot on his shoulder. "Soddin' spirit that doesn't know to keep his business to himself..."

"I think I understand now why you didn't want to see me at all..." Jack chuckled at her.

But of course, she crossed half the world trying to escape... ah, how would she put it? 'Damned spirits who wouldn't leave her be with her already miserable life'... Yeah...

Well, he would've been annoyed too if the one thing he was trying to avoid appeared in front of him.

"Of course, now there's Fang too... But well" She smiled "At least he's s'mehow endearin'."

"Endearing? A freaking almost-two-metres-tall creature with _sharp claws _and _sharp teeth_? Endearing, right." He deadpanned at her.

"Oh, ye just don't get his charm!" She huffed, moving away from him and crossing her arms over her chest, in fake- or not really? - Indignation.

Jack found that he somehow... missed the warmth she had spread on his shoulder. What? He had been invisible for over three-hundred years, he wasn't still used to human touch- had she hugged him, he probably would've just _frozen_ there, with no idea of what to do- and he found that he actually _enjoyed_ being touched by another being.

...Okay, that had sounded horrible, nevermind that.

On another subject though...

He eyed the girl carefully; she was once again looking at the stars with that pensive look. Well... she _had_ told him a great deal about her life, had she not? So, he figured it wouldn't be _too_ bad for him to ask...

"Come on Natalie; tell me, what's _so_ wrong with this day?"

She stared at him.

Stared at him hard.

Then she stood up and started walking away.

"Ye rushed it."

And she stomped off.

Jack sighed.

Well, it seemed that she was going to be the one that put the rules of this game.


	7. Catwalks and conversations

**Please note that I'm just saying this because I love you:**

**GET AN ACCOUNT.**

**ALL OF YOU.**

**PLEASE.**

**IT'S NOT EVEN FIFTEEN CLICKS.**

**Why, may you ask, I encourage doing so in such an adamant way? Because I like to thank my reviewers- not _personally,_ since I highly doubt many of you live in South America, but as close as I can get to that. And honestly, I *ache* inside when I see an especially lovely review and I just CAN'T thank the person properly.**

**Also, some of you might know that I actually enjoy talking to you people, since, you know, some of you are just as nerdy (Face it already.) as I am and I can spend *hours* talking about some stuff.**

**Such as literature.**

**Tolkien in particular.**

**I'm going to get the first two verses of Aragorn's poem tattooed on my back next month, you know, "All that is gold does not glitter..."**

**I know. Nerd. I know. Shut up and read.**

* * *

Natalie was walking through an elegant town she wasn't quite familiar with.

She was wearing quite elegant clothes too, a long burgundy dress and black stilettos.

It seemed to be a pretty busy town, and she took a moment to take in the majestic gothic architecture; all buildings were made of stone with tall windows and gargoyles on the roofs. Now that she thought of it, she could have studied architecture, yes.

A lot less risky than music- even if less fulfilling too.

Yeah, architecture would have been nice... she started backing up, trying to get the entire city at once, all those nooks and cracks that the strong lights and fierce shadows of the night time seemed to increase- and she bumped into someone.

_Something._

"Watch your step, _girl_." She heard a gravel-like voice spill the words venomously behind her.

She turned around, a lame apology already falling from her lips.

"Sorry, I wasn't watchin'-" She looked at him.

She _presumed_ it was a him, anyway.

Two metres tall, ferocious yellow fangs appearing from his black lips, little yellow eyes and furry ears pressed against his skull.

The thing was a werewolf indeed.

She averted her gaze, knowing when a cornered animal is about to bite, and looked around, asking herself why the hell would a werewolf be on a city were it could be seen- they weren't invisible since they weren't spirits, of course.

Speaking of places where it could be seen...

Where the Hell was she?!

And it was only _then_- stupid her and her desire to watch the town's architecture- that she realised that the busy streets weren't busy with people at all.

Oh no.

That, of course, would have been too much to ask, yes.

All around her there were werewolves and ghosts and vampires- that most certainly did _not_ sparkle, _thank God_- a zombie or two, and, good God, was that a demon?

What.

The.

Hell.

She grimaced. Whoever was sending her these dreams had a twisted sense of humour, of course. But at least had good taste, since, you know, she was wearing a nice dress and all that. Whoever had made this could've just throw her there, in sweatpants and an old shirt so that all the- elegantly clad- infernal inhabitants would not only represent a potential threat to her life, but also disapprove completely of her fashion sense as they most eagerly dismembered her.

She'd have to thank the creator of _this_, really.

How thoughtful of him- or her. Whatever.

Well, since she was in here she might as well look around to see what she could find in such a strange place. So, she shrugged and mingled into the crowd, doing her best to ignore the scoffs and glances she was receiving.

Hell, she was sure she was looking good, and this seemed a fancy place, so, quoting Tyra Banks, she was going to _work it, girl_, while looking dignified and simply awesome- what? She _could_ look good when she wanted to, she had the looks of a high-fashion model, and she _knew_ she could have made a living out of it, posing for covers in Vogue and all and all that jazz.

...Of course, she probably would have driven everyone crazy around her, and yeah, the first time anybody _dared_ to _order_ her something, she'd send him straight to Hell back and forth five times with the help of some colourful words.

Just the looks, certainly _not_ the attitude.

...Nor too much of the grace, by the way, because in that moment she stumbled and barely managed to avoid falling in a rather embarrassing way.

Nope, certainly modelling wouldn't have been the thing for her.

She would just stick to music, then.

When she finally recovered her balance- and after making sure that none of the monsters around her were snickering at her- she looked to her left, and discovered that she was in front of some sort of restaurant... pub... thingy.

Natalie looked up at the rusty old sign that was lit with some eerie yellow light.

_Inferno's Bar._

Oh, classy.

Feeling tugged by some invisible force, she decided to enter the place; the atmosphere was like in the rest of the town: dark, busy, and filled with monsters and spirits and demons. A waiter that looked lanky and with greyish skin led her to a table- for two, she noticed- handed her the menu, and told her he would be right back.

What was that nagging at the back of her brain? She didn't quite understood what was going on, but she knew she was supposed to be in here, somehow...

The waiter- who, Natalie noticed, had a pair of black horns sprouting from his skull- took out a little note pad and looked at her expectantly. Natalie shuffled.

What was she supposed to order now...? She didn't order anything, at any rate, because the words had escaped her mouth even before she actually gave them any proper thought.

"I'm waiting for someone."

But she wasn't.

Was she?

Oh, how did she manage to get into this sort of mess, once again?

The man- or demon-thing- nodded once, and took off without further word.

Natalie sighed, and tried to put her thoughts in order...

Where the Hell was she?!

She was dreaming, she knew that much, she was no stupid. And for some reason, she was waiting for someone, _something_, at a very much elegant bar slash pub slash restaurant- except that she had no clue as for who she was waiting for!

Or _what,_ for that matter.

She hadn't too much time to think about it anyway, because a tall shadow materialised from nowhere and took the seat in front of her.

"Hello, Natalie, fancy meeting you here."

She arched an eyebrow and looked at the... _person_... in front of her. Tall, with dark grey skin and unnerving yellow eyes; he was wearing a black tunic, and his black hair was combed back, in a sort of spiky fashion. He looked a little bit... sick, however.

"I'd say the same, but I've got, ye know; no _fuckin'_ idea where I am or who are ye."

He smirked half amused and half confused at her.

"Well, let me introduce myself then; you might know me as Pitch Black. As for the place where we are now... you're dreaming, my dear, and this is a nightmare I made for you." He tapped his chin with a long finger, looking bored.

Natalie looked at him. So this was the _famous_ Pitch, huh?

"Ye really fucked shit up, or so I've been told." She told him.

"Ah, I've seen you heard of me-"

"But seriously, ye look like crap." She told him.

Pitch winced in front of her.

"Yes... I had much better times indeed..." His gaze clouded with rage for a moment. "But never mind that; I'm sure you see for yourself my poor state..."

He raised his hand and called for a waiter- the same silent guy that had been around before. Natalie opened the menu and scanned quickly the food; really, not many things she actually knew, and _no thanks¸_ she didn't want to risk her health tonight. She made up her mind and the waiter wandered off with both their orders and the promise of coming back as soon as he could.

"Ye know... tis place pretty cool for a nightmare..." She looked at Pitch with fumbled eyebrows. "I s'pposed it was meant to freak me out, but I'm really not scared..."

He looked at her with an annoyed expression and clicked his tongue.

"What? Can't I be civil? It's no use to me if you're too scared to properly talk."

Well, that made sense. Or something like that. Why would be Pitch Black that eager of talking to her anyway?

She answered with a nod of her head, and both fell on an awkward silence. Really, how did she manage to stumble into the most unlikely of situations?

"So... ye have pretty much good taste, for, ye know, being... well, _ye_." He raised his eyebrows. "I mean... I love this dress, so, aye, thanks for that, I guess..."

He simply hummed something under his breath, and stared at her.

_Really_ stared at her.

Those kinds of stares that make you want to crawl under the table and run away.

Pitch cocked his head to the side, and muttered something that sounded like '_I wonder...'_, but whatever train of thought he was having was interrupted by the waiter's arrival.

Natalie didn't even glanced at whatever her... partner... had ordered for himself; instead she focused her glance on the glass of red wine in front of her.

"Aren't you underage?" She heard Pitch's voice across from her.

"Not in Scotland."

"We're _not_ in Scotland, girl."

"We're not even in the real world, so I guess I'm able to drink, aye?"

He snorted. Apparently this girl didn't like to play by the rules- but he should know that already, he had been keeping an eye on her for some time.

"Hey, I made ye laugh! Kudos for me then!" And she winked and sip a little bit of her wine. "But I'm guessing tis not a simple rendezvous to talk about the banalities of life, innit?"

He took a long sip of his- incredibly dark- drink, and leaned forward, intertwining his fingers on top of the table.

_Ooohhh;_ he was talking business now.

"No, it's not. I've been planning to find a little time to talk to you, alas, I couldn't before now. A certain..._friend_- he spat the word- was not too fond of the idea."

Natalie nodded; she knew what he was talking about.

"Peregrin." She said, just to confirm her suspicions. He nodded, narrowing his eyes.

"Yes- _Peregrin_, the golden lion. That's exactly what I wanted to talk you about..."

Oh no.

She was in trouble.

And big trouble, for that matter.

"What 'bout him?" She tried to sound calm and keep her tone light.

"I am sure that you may know... I am the fear, I represent terror and panic. For a long time I thought that the Sandman was my true enemy, that him and I were supposed to clash with each other until only one of us would prevail-"

"And I've been told he kicked yer _ass_ pretty bad-" He shot her a dirty look. "Sorry, please go on."

"I'd love to. As I was saying... I was wrong. Sandman... he's the Guardian of Dreams. He battles against my nightmares alright, but dreams aren't the opposite of fear. Do you know what the opposite of fear, is, Natalie?"

She closed her eyes, and exhaled one shaky breath. She didn't like where this was going...

"Courage." She mumbled.

"Indeed. Now, can you think of someone who would be the definition of courage? Someone, I think, who's tall and dresses in oranges and goldens and likes to bark orders around? Someone who's been a loner forever and might be some sort of distant cousin of the Sandman?"

Natalie looked into her glass intently, trying to find an impossible answer into the red of the wine.

"What d'ye want with Peregrin?" She asked in a rude way.

"I want him to leave things be, I want him to keep on with his sulking from his forgotten corner of the world, but you, my dear, you make that impossible."

"...The Hell? What do I have to do with any of this?"

He growled at her, and she had to bite the laughter that was trying to come out of her mouth. He looked- and sounded- like an angry cat.

"He was perfectly okay, minding his own business, as he had been for the longest of times. Then you appeared and stirred him awake an in duty once again. I do _not_ appreciate that, Natalie. I want him to leave me be, especially now that I'm barely a shadow of what I once was... I want him to stop using the Sandman's dreams to corner me, that infuriating lion... I want him _away_!" He slammed a hand on the table.

Natalie flinched.

Pitch's breathing was ragged, he certainly was angry at Peregrin.

"Though..." He continued once he regained his composure. "I reckon he looks a little bit... _off_... weary, tired. Maybe the years are starting to take their toll on him, hmmm? After all... he doesn't fight me because he's a Guardian, it's just part of his... nature."

What could he be possibly talking about? Unless...

_Oh_.

If she knew him like she thought he did- and she _did_, mind you- she knew what was going on exactly. He was tired of it all already, he just wanted some _peace_.

Their deal.

_No bonds nor bindings._

No, but he hadn't said anything lately, so it couldn't be that time already... No.

Just no.

She eyed Pitch, fortunately, he had no idea of _how_ deep her friendship with Peregrin went, or he would have made something about it already.

At least bitch-slap her across the face.

"On a side note..." Pitch started once again. "I've noticed you're growing close with certain... winter spirit... who I've got a score to settle with..."

That was it; Natalie couldn't stop laughing out loud now, earning some dirty looks from the creatures surrounding them.

"Ye've got it all _wrong!_" She told him. "I'm not... '_Growing close'_, I'm barely even _friends_ with Jack! I find him annoyin' most of times!"

"Huh. At least we agree on that matter." He smirked a lopsided smirk. "Anyway... let's leave this here, with a warning- you don't stir Peregrin into action, and I'll leave you be. If not, I'll find you, it's not hard to do at all, spirits and mythical creatures seem to follow you, after all..."

She groaned. Then blinked.

"Ye're _threatenin'_ me?"

"When you say it like that it sounds so... _tacky_; I'm just stating the terms of a civilised deal."

"Oh, that so? I must say I'm sorry... I don't make deals."

Because she had already one pending that avoided her from doing any other- ever.

He rolled his eyes.

"Then _yes_, I _am _threatening you. Watch your back, girl, and be careful with what you mess with."

It was her turn to smirk now.

"Don't ye think I _know_ that already? I'm sick of dealin' with... yer kind" She vaguely moved her hand indicating, well, the whole population of the place.

"_Good_. I'd hate that _something_ happened to a young girl like you."

* * *

She decided not to say anything. To Jack, that's it.

There was no need whatsoever to... unsettle him, or whatever. Besides, it was _her_ business; his name had appeared in the conversation for the fraction of a second and then went away almost instantly. He really needn't to stick his frozen nose into her life.

Really.

Even if she had told him a couple of things about her childhood.

Even if right now she was looking for him.

Even if she smiled for a moment when she saw him there, laughing with children.

He was still a damn spirit, and that, for starters, made him an ink blot on her books.

Unless proven the contrary, of course.

She trotted up to him and grabbed his hand, tugging him away from whatever he was doing. He just stared at her and countered her enigmatic smile with one of his trademark grins.

"Oh? Are we going somewhere?" He asked, letting her guide him through the streets of Burgess. "I knew it, see? Not even you could resist my charm."

She shot him a dirty look.

"Ye _have_ charm? Huh. Hadn't noticed that."

"You say so, yet you're still holding my hand..."

She stopped dead on her tracks and looked down. Yes, yes she was still holding his hand. She let go of it immediately, and put both her hands into her pockets, least that something like that happened again.

Jack smiled at her, she was just... fun to be around. Sure, she would push him away and tell him how freaking insufferable he was, and Hell, she _had_ closed the door on his face; but it was...

He didn't know what it was.

Perhaps the fact that he had been lonely for too much time. Point is, he liked having her around. He really liked it, and he _wanted_ to be her friend, weather she liked it or not. She tugged at his sleeve- but made sure to let go instantly.

"Come on! I want to show ye somethin'."

That caught his attention. He noticed that she was carrying her violin too.

"What is it?"

"A surprise and a favour." She smiled at him again, while she started to head into whatever direction she had been heading before.

He followed her, taking pleasure into invading her personal bubble- a thing he was sure now she hated profusely.

"So? No hint as for where you're taking me?" He blew his cold breath on her neck, marvelling at the way her hair stood there with his action.

"_Nay."_

"Pretty please?" Another gust of frozen breath.

Natalie rubbed her neck with a hand, trying to get the goosebumps out of her skin.

"Stop doin' that!" She commanded.

"Why?"

And yes, he blew some chilly air at her neck again. Okay, so there was a little voice at the back of his head that told him that it might not have been the wisest idea to do so- she _had_ wrestled with him before, after all- but he really couldn't help it.

He was all about fun and mischief after all.

"Because it's drivin' me insane! I'm _tryin'_ to be nice here!"

He chuckled.

"Really? I couldn't have guessed that..." He commented casually.

Natalie shut her mouth and decided to avoid talking to him for the rest of their trip to- wherever it was.

When they arrived to the park, she stopped and turned around to look at him dead in the eye.

"Now, rule number one, ye'll don't talk. Ye're here to look and _just_ look. As for the favour... Ah well, ye'll see when ye'll see."

And before he could even start to think of a reply, she wandered away, and sat on a bench next to a man in his fifties. Jack got closer to hear the conversation.

"Ah, Jean! Lovely day, aye?" The girl unclasped her case and took her violin in her hands with great care.

"So you say, _fille_, but I don't see what lovely is about sitting 'ere on the cold!" His tone was light, but there was certain... sadness in his eyes.

"My, is a little bit of cold goin' to take down the mighty Jean...what's yer surname, by the way?"

"Valjean."

Natalie's eyebrows shot up behind her fringe.

"Really? Valjean? _Jean Valjean?_ Like the guy from Les Miserables?"

"Oui, I had the surname already, and my mother loved to read a lot."

Natalie blinked a couple of times. Then she started laughing until tears were streaming down her face, and the man soon followed. Jack got closer to them, curious of the friendship they shared.

She seemed so... carefree and less grumpy.

Why couldn't she behave like that around him too?

Well... _maybe_ it had to do with the fact that he enjoyed teasing her. Just a bit.

"Anyway, as I was sayin'" Natalie said once she could breath again. "Is really a _wee_ bit of cold goin' to take down the _great_ Jean Valjean?" She started tuning the strings of her violin.

"Well... non, but certainly Old Man Winter could be kinder with us... les miserables..."

"Lame pun, Jean; really lame. But ye're right, ol' Jack Frost could be _a lot kinder_ with some people, huh? The frozen bastard..." And she shot a glance at Jack.

He held her stare for a couple of seconds before he had to look away.

Okay, so... she had this friend- _Jean_, he reminded himself- who was, apparently, living on the streets. And it was winter. And _he_ was the one responsible for the cold.

That had been the favour that she wanted to ask him, probably, to spare this place from so much snow and chilly wind.

He looked up at the both when he heard Jean talking once again.

"Though, I estimate that you are not here just to badmouth some old legend, oui?"

Jack narrowed his eyes.

He _was_ very much real, even if he couldn't see him. And he felt his ego bruise when the girl didn't correct the man.

"Aye, right as always my friend! I came here to make a duet."

"A... duet?" He asked slowly.

"Aye" She finished tuning her violin. "I've never had the pleasure of playing with an accordion; though I _know_ it sounds lovely with a violin."

"I...don't know, mon cher, are you sure you want to share your music with this rusty old man?"

Instead of answering, she stood up and played a long, high- pitched note. Then she started to slowly fall into a steady rhythm, and closed her eyes, letting her body sway with the waltz she was playing. Jack let his eyes follow her moves, and for the briefest of times he had the impulse to dance with her, she looked so happy he started smiling without even noticing.

Soon enough, Jean was on his feet too, a worn out accordion on his hands, replying to her music.

Her strings asked him a question.

His accordion answered half-heartedly.

She asked again, more insistent this time. He staggered, still unsure of what the correct answer was. A third time the question vibrated through the air, catching the attention of a few passers by. The accordion fell silent... and then came the answer, slow, steady, sure, but half- forgotten.

They started talking, both accordion and violin, like old friends that haven't seen each other in years, it was warm and rushed and loud. It was a whole conversation that could be understood in any language.

It ended soon, after ten minutes or so.

Jean cleaned the sweat on his brow, a bright smile on his worn out face- as worn out as his accordion.

"Thanks. I had forgotten how to do that for a while..." He told the girl, who was putting away her beloved instrument as tenderly as a mother.

"No need to thank me." She winked at him. "I... should get goin' now. Ye know, things to do and all that fuss."

He nodded his head and let her slip away.

Jack followed her, noticing how much calmer she looked now.

"About that favour..." He commented. "I guess that I could make less snow fall into this place..."

Natalie stopped and looked at him. Then she smiled sweetly, an almost nostalgic smile.

"Ye're serious?" Because she still had trust issues, apparently.

"Sure."

"Thanks... Ye- I..." She sighed and ran a hand through her black hair. She looked at Jack again, and put a hand delicately on his cheek. "Thanks. He's a really good friend, and he's got it tougher than me... So... ye know, I really appreciate it..." She trailed off and looked at him in his impossible blue eyes... And then she realised what she was doing and turned around without any other glance.

"But I really should get goin'... So, see ye later, or somethin'."

Jack looked at her with the face of someone who just won a bet, and chuckled to himself.

Okay, so even the sour moody Scottish girl had soft spots. Certainly an advantage to remember.


	8. Popcorn and princes

**Yes, it's that time again, when I tell you things about my life no-one really cares about.**

**First off; oh my God guys. I just fell in love- not really, but oh well. I just saw a street violinist- he might have been in his twenty-something. He was dressed in a suit and converse shoes. I've got a thing for musicians.**

**Of course, being me, when I walked past him I couldn't avoid smiling at him like a fool. And he smiled back. I think I squealed inside. **

**I swear that if I see him again I'm going to ask him out. He was really talented anyway.**

**Next thingI just bought a horse. I've been riding for 8 years now- you know, dressage, jumping and all that- and I was offered a pure Lusitanian silver dapple stallion with pedigree. I'm naming him Aramis. I'm probably the happiest person alive right now.**

**And since I am so happy, I want to propose something to you: anybody out there with an artistic talent willing to draw Natalie (or Fang, Lapin, Joel, your favourite scene so far... you get the drill) in exchange of me writing something for you? Whatever you want, basically. Something around 3000- 4000 words preferably- though I might overdo that length if I'm really inspired. I've made a few sketches of Nat myself, but then again, I'm a lazy bastard and never quite finished them. So...**

**Is anybody interested on the trade? Just message me and we'll get into the details :D**

* * *

"Can I ask you something?"

Natalie looked up from her coffee and cocked her head to the side. She and Joel had been sitting on a bench, enjoying each others' company during lunch time.

"Ye're always askin' me things anyway, so go ahead."

He shuffled around and scratched the back of his head.

"Are you really friends with that creepy guy? The incredibly tall one?"

Incredibly tall one...?

_Oh._

"Ye mean Matthew? The one with black hair, who smokes a lot?"

"Yeah, him." He sipped from his own coffee.

"I guess ye could call us friends... why?"

"I dunno, he just... freaks me out a little bit. You know, he's always so silent and alone and looks like he could kill people with just a glare..." He shuddered. "And I've seen you with him, so I was wondering if he's really as he looks..."

Natalie smiled into her coffee.

"He's not exactly a happy fella. But then again, neither am I, yet ye still insist on spendin' time with me."

"Still Nat, he freaks me out..."

"Come on, he's not that bad once ye get to know 'im..."

"If you say so..." He shrugged.

They both fell in an easy silence, until Joel spoke again.

"Oh, and there's a thing I've been wondering. Can you play the bagpipes?"

Natalie choked on her coffee and he had to pat her in the back. Then she looked at him with a bewildered expression.

"What did ye just say...?" She asked slowly, almost scared.

"If you know how to play the bagpipes..." He blinked. "Did I say something wrong?"

Natalie ran a hand through her straight her slowly.

"Ye just got the stereotype right. Scots are associated with bagpipes. As a matter of fact, aye, I know how to play 'em. Oh, I could _kiss ye_ right now, ye got it _right!"_ She grinned at him with bright eyes and threw her arms around him in an awkward hug, managing to- somehow- avoid spilling her coffee. Or his.

"You go around kissing people who get your stereotype right...?" He smiled confused, patting her in the back.

"Oh, it's a manner of speech, ye fool!" She grumbled. "I would never kiss ye, ye're like some sort of brother to me." She finally let go of him, and sat back on the bench. He ruffled her hair- ignoring Natalie's glare.

"_Awww_, I knew you could be sweet behind that thick wall of sarcasm and disrespect towards almost everything!"

"Joel."

"Yeah, Nat?"

"Call me sweet again and I'll kill ye."

"Noted."

* * *

What she was doing was wrong and she knew it. She knew it could have consequences if she was caught. And they could be bad, _bad_ consequences.

And if she didn't get caught, that would certainly imply lying a great deal.

Now, don't get things wrong; Natalie had never been one to play by the rules. She defied most kinds of authority figures, and she had no respect whatsoever for most things. She had even performed an act of vandalism or two- Well, she really admired Banksy, even if her own attempts at graffiti art weren't remotely close to the anonymous artist's work.

Yet, even she had limits, and those were situated when somebody else's life could be screwed up by her decisions.

Still, Jamie had managed to convince her to let him watch a horror movie with her, late at night.

His speech had included the terms "I'm old enough", "Mom won't know", "Pretty please? You're the best grown-up ever...!" and "I can even get us popcorn- I know where mom hides it."

Smartass.

He knew she loved popcorn.

Which was why there were now sitting on the Bennett's couch, at two in the morning- So much later than his bedtime!- huddled together with Fang, watching some horror movie neither of them knew the name of. Sophie was asleep since quite a while ago, safe in her room, away from the imaginary monsters and demons and serial killers. Because apparently only one of those things hadn't been enough for the producers of the movie- _of course not_.

And of course, they had a huge stack of popcorn and a blanket thrown over the three of them.

Natalie stole a glance at Jamie; he seemed to be pretty well, despite all the suspense and mysterious assassinations. She felt quite proud of him, to be honest, horror movies weren't such a big deal to her, having grown up used to ghosts, spirits, sprites- and the likes of so- who were more often than not related to death on one way or another.

Nope. Most things didn't faze her at all.

She watched intently as the- rather _stupid _- blonde chick slowly approached her basement- Really, who in their right mind would come to the source of some mysterious creep noises alone in the middle of the night?- and opened the door with a trembling hand and-

"What are you three doing?"

Jamie jumped from his spot with an _'eep!'_

Fang threw himself to the floor with his paws above his head.

The popcorn bowl Natalie had in her lap went flying, scattering popcorn on every possible direction, while the girl tripped over the couch's armrest, landing on the floor with an _'oof!'_

Jack laughed, uncontrollably, at the scene in front of him.

Jamie was the first one to recover.

"Jack! You scared me! What are you doing here?" He asked, a hand still over his heart, trying to calm down his vibrant pulse.

"B'sides tryin' to give us a heart attack...?" Came Natalie's reply from the floor, her feet still over the couch's arm.

The winter spirit laughed again, and then grinned boyishly, leaning casually on his staff.

"Sorry, sorry, but you should have seen your faces! It was priceless!" He told them, before starting to laugh again.

Fang whined, climbed to the coach once again and threw the blanket over his furry self, trying to keep on watching the movie.

Jamie ended up laughing with the spirit too, before cuddling next to Fang under the blanket, his eyes intently on the screen.

Natalie on the other hand, was still on the floor, mumbling something under her breath, her thick accent making it more dramatic. Jack looked over the couch's armrest at the girl and smirked at her.

"Everything alright down there?" He asked.

"Aye. Ev'vrythin's _perfect_. Except for a damn winter spirit who just gave me a major heart attack."

"Oh come on, don't be like that..." He offered her a hand... which she refused.

Of course.

"Like _what_, Jack? Ye _are_ insufferable. And now we're out of popcorn." She said while standing up. "And ye can guess that I'm who's goin' to have to clean it up!"

Jamie shushed while glaring at Natalie.

Ah. Right.

The movie.

Right.

"Nevermind, I'm goin' to finish watchin' this. If ye're plannin' to stay, ye'll have to help me with this mess."

"Hey, but I-"

"No. Tis no deal, I'm in charge for the night, I make the rules."

He sighed.

Well... at least he had had a good laugh.

Natalie cuddled at the other side of Fang, and Jack sat next to her- perhaps a little bit too close. She jumped slightly at his touch. He raised a questioning eyebrow at her.

"Ye're cold. Wasn't expectin' that." She simply said.

Jack looked at her, his face carefully blank.

"Hello, my name is Jack _Frost_. Guardian of Fun and spirit of _winter_."

She clicked her tongue at him.

"Hey! Fang and I are trying to see this movie, remember?" Jamie grumbled from the other side. The furry creature whined, evidently agreeing with the kid.

Natalie blinked, had a kid just told her to _shut up_?

Yes, yes he had. She smirked.

Oh, he was going to grow up to be a damn good guy indeed.

Thirty minutes later, the movie was over and Jamie fast asleep next to Fang. Natalie looked at him and smiled; he was still a child, no matter how cool he was in her eyes. Still a kid.

"Don't worry, I'll take him upstairs." Jack whispered, and took the boy into his arms. Jamie didn't move at all.

Natalie stood from the sofa and went to the kitchen, searching for the broom to get rid of all the popcorn.

It was _a lot_ of popcorn.

Fang chose a spot in the corner to curl- still with the blanket he had been holding on- and in a matter of half a minute he was already snoring softly, his big paws over his muzzle, his ears relaxed.

The girl- after having found the broom- stood leaning against the doorframe staring at her faithful companion.

"Only ye would 'ave crossed the world to come keep me company." She muttered at the sleeping creature.

"Though speakin' of animals... I haven't seen Lapin in almost a week. I think I'll take 'im cookies t'morrow..."

"Talking to yourself now, Nat?" Jack chuckled in her ear. Natalie jumped, when had he come back?

And why must he insist so much into giving her chills with that cold breath of his?

Annoying damn spirit.

"I was thinkin' out loud, and it's not of yer damn business."

"Ouch, harsh. Did someone ever tell you you might have some anger management issues?"

"I'm not even goin' to dignify that with an answer." She mumbled

"Actually, I think that _was_ an answer." He smiled a boyish smile at her.

She simply grumbled something and started to sweep the floor.

"Go get the trash can, Jack, so I don't have to, ye know, walk ev'ry single time to the kitchen back and forth." She commanded.

He rolled his eyes; someone had taught this girl how to bark orders pretty well. Still he did as told, and grabbed a spare broom on the way, willing to help the girl- it _might_ had been his fault- partly- that the popcorn was on the floor.

Maybe.

Just a little bit.

It took them over twenty minutes to sweep the entire floor clean, and all attempts Jack made to start a conversation were futile. Natalie simply grunted in response to whatever he said.

* * *

She was staring at him.

She was staring at him and it was starting to make him feel awkward.

Moreover when she was wearing that smug smile on her lips, her head slightly cocked to the side, and humming every once in a while intelligible words that he didn't quite hear.

Jack shuffled from his corner of the couch.

Natalie kept on the staring business, from the other corner.

After a couple of minutes or so, he had enough.

"What is it?" He said, mildly annoyed. "Do I've got something on my face?"

"Nay." She still smiled.

"Are you gonna just keep on... _looking_ at me?" He ran a hand through his hair.

"Aye."

To be honest, Jack _loved _attention, it was one of the side effects of having been alone for over three hundred years.

He loved attention. Carved for it. Ached for it.

But not when this girl just _stared_ at him for apparently no reason at all. Plus, that smile she had. It was making him feel weird. And not a good weird.

"Quit looking at me!" He threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"Nay."

Jack sighed.

"Can you at least tell me why? You're starting to scare me, Natalie." He crossed his arms over his chest and pouted.

Yes, it was not a usual thing, but Jack Frost did pout once in a while. Like now.

She simply chuckled.

"Ye look like a kid."

"You're not the first one who calls me immature" He shrugged.

"Nay, not that. I mean, ye _are_, but I wasn't sayin' it because of that."

He got closer to her now, intrigued. "Why did you say that, then?"

She shrugged.

"Dunno. Have ye ever read _the Little Prince_?"

Changing topics now, are we?

Fine then.

"Not really" He answered. "But you said something about a little prince before, right?"

She nodded.

"I quoted it, aye. It's one of my favourite books. Ye remind me of the Prince, in some weird way..."

"Really? How so?" He got even closer now.

She smiled to herself.

"The Little Prince was a guy from another planet. He had a rose and three volcanoes; and he only needed to turn his chair around t'watch the sunset. But he got into a fight with the rose, and he ran away... to a bunch of diff'rent places, and finally, to the Earth. He met a lost pilot, and tamed a fox, and was gifted a lamb in a box. And finally he got back to his home."

Jack arched an eyebrow.

"I _really_ don't see how that's got anything to do with me. At all."

Natalie snorted.

"Not because of the story, but because of the _Prince_. He was... innocent, in a way. Like a kid. And quite stubborn too- ye know, if he wanted a question answered, he _would_ have it answered. And ye have the same laugh as him."

"...Have you ever heard this prince dude laugh?" He asked slowly.

"Nay, it's just a book. But ye laugh the same way I've always imagined he would..." She trailed off, and her eyes looked blurry for a second, as if her mind was away, far away...

"Should I take that as a compliment?" Jack smiled a broad smile.

She just shrugged again.

"Take it as ye want to. It was just a thought anyway. I knew ye reminded me of somethin' I just didn't know what until now."

He remembered some words she had said before.

"So this makes me the Little Prince... and you the fox?"

She smirked at him.

"Oh, I certainly hope not. The fox cried when the Prince who tamed him left."


	9. Break in and Break down

**First things first:**

**A major huge thank you to Bookworm210, who did the new cover for this story. You are awesome.**

**Okay guys, I started college, which means now I've got less time to write, since I need to study. Education is important, remember that.**

**This chapter is a sort of...short experiment, let's say. I wanted to play with perspectives a lil bit and well, get into the mind of Nat for a while. After this, everything returns to normal.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

People keep askin' me why I'm so angry all the time. Why I've got a major disdain t'wards most things, why I brood and sulk.

The nerve they have.

I can't answer most o' them though. How could I? I can say that I didnee have a happy childhood. I can say that I grew up pretty much isolated, that my parents died, that I sort of jumped from foster home to foster home.

That messes up a kid. But that's only half the story.

I can't tell 'em that I was shunned as a wee girl b'cause I was the strange one. Weird stuff happened 'round me.

Imagination, stories and tales intertwine with history...

Belief.

That's a gift my parents left me. They taught me to b'lieve in most believable things.

Heh.

Belief.

What a silly thing. A dangerous thing.

I ran with Black Dogs, and helped 'em guide souls to the other side. I assisted Brownies with their chores. I comforted Banshees, I traded taunts with Kelpies, I glided in the night with ghosts an' spirits.

Most wee gals played with dolls.

They couldn't see Banshees, why would they? Daddies and mommies don't tell ye that scary things exist, nay. The Tooth Fairy exists, and she's nice and polite and sweet. The Sandman exists, and he gives ye good dreams at night.

There is no Bogeyman, nor demons nor monsters.

Lies, lies, all lies. Pretty little lies, but lies nevertheless.

Immortal, supernatural beings tend to know who can see them. They've always surrounded me, looked for me- _after_ me even- when I was no more than seven.

To humans, I was always the creepy child. The one who whispered 'bout curses an' magic. A bad influence to their own offspring. I escaped from most of my temporary homes in the middle of the night, followin' the glowin' of some wanderin' spirit.

I was always punished for that.

I still kept on doin' it.

"She'll never learn"

"Lost case"

"Too much imagination"

"Damaged"

"Emotionally _and_ mentally unstable"

An' a long list of those...

I distanced myself from anythin' supernatural. Not that that helped my case anyway. Years and years of reputation can't disappear all of the sudden.

I didnee make amends with that world even when I met Peregrin. I met him and I yelled at him, and I threw him insults- words a young girl shouldn't know. He disapproved. He sat with me in silence. He patted me in the back and softened my rough edges- a bit, just a bit. I _was_ very much a lost case by then. Still am.

He found me a home- immortal sprites 'ave their ways- and I settled down with Fergus, and never gave him much trouble.

...Not that he knew 'bout it, anyway.

I was still angry at the world, angry at my parents, angry at myself. I had bad company. I had many vices t'be that young.

I was desperate.

Miserable.

I smoked and drank and wandered at questionable places at late hours of night. That when I was fifteen. I never cared too much 'bout my well bein', my reputation, _anything_.

And when it was all too much, I played music. It was my escape from this world, all this pain and isolation and uncertainty.

Life kicked me hard- not an original story, I know- and I wanted to kick life as hard as that too.

Why am I angry all the time, pissed off, annoyed...?

Heh.

I'm pretty much an animal. Any cornered animal lashes out and bites. Any dog that has been treated roughly will growl and bark if anyone gets too close. I don't like people bein' close to me. Maybe b'cause most of who got too close left at the end?

It might be.

I don't really care.

I stopped carin' 'bout many things a long while ago. Or so I'd like to believe... but that's a lie.

'Everybody lies', Gregory House would say. Also, 'it's never Lupus' but that doesn't really relate to my train of thought...

It's most probable that I am the way I am, because I am that way. It's the nature of the beast, it's the way I found to survive this world. Suck it up, glare, and keep on walkin'- might not be the best way, but it kept me alive for as long as now. So aye, I'll bark and bite if that's what keeps me breathin'.

Sorry if that bothers anybody.

Though let's be honest- I'm really _not_ sorry.

Some ask me if I'm depressed. Nay, I've never suffered from depression.

Anger management issues? Aye. But that's a whole other thing.

It's not depression. It's somethin' more alike to... havin' lost hope. Bein' used to be alone. Havin' known misery for forever.

It's certainly somethin' more akin those lines.

I buried myself in books and myths. I searched for knowledge. I can name all of the gargoyles of Notre Dame Cathedral. I can quote Shakespeare by heart without havin' to think too much into it.

I tried to fill the gaps of unasked questions.

I failed- horribly. And laughed at myself for that (it's always good to laugh at oneself).

Truth is, for one who b'lieves in so many things, I have too little faith in the world. As I walk into shin-deep snow- _thanks, Jack, for makin' my life even more difficult_- I see it all around me. Despair. Loneliness. Selfishness. Misunderstandin'.

I see it the sad eyes of children whose parents don't care to listen to them. They don't want to hear, because if you don't hear and don't see, then there is no problem. Except there is.

I see it in kicked puppies stupid teenagers bully- the rule of this world, the one who screams louder, who punches harder, that's the leader, that's who wins the game. Except it's not.

I see it as I walk alone at night, in the poor people who hasn't got anythin' to eat, anythin' to make themselves warm at winter. And most people just walk past them, and look at them harshly, and judge them. As if they weren't human beings.

I lost most faith in the world.

Most faith in people.

There are exceptions, though- there are _always_ exceptions. Take Jean and his smiles. Take Jamie and his naive curiosity. Take Joel and his desire to help, to understand.

Must all good people's names start with 'j'?

Followin' the rule, then, take Jack and his...

_Whatever ye want to call it._

He makes 'em laugh and be happy, at least for a while, for a short while. That's no small accomplishment, even if I'd never say it out loud. He's already too cocky; I wouldn't want to feed his ego.

Nay. Not once in a life time.

My mom once told me, when I was scared after a particularly horrible dream, that the moon is out there, takin' care of all of us, watchin' over all of us. That no matter how lonely we feel, how dark the night is... the moon is there, always there.

Silent. Watchin'. Helpin'.

Yet... Yet I walk and see the misery surroundin' me, and I find that hard to believe. Is it a true guardian of sorts, does it really cares for us at all?

Perhaps it's asleep.

Perhaps the Man in the Moon has forgotten of all of us.

Perhaps he's angry, b'cause humans tend t'be silly creatures.

Tis is what I think at night, when I see a full- _empty?_ - Moon shinin' out there.

And my faith shrinks more an' more...

Until somethin'-_someone_- else proves to be an exception, and makes me smile again. My dad said that every love ballad should end with hope.

That every life should end with hope.

* * *

Jack lowered the book with Natalie's rushed handwriting. He put it where he found it, and, closing his eyes, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Well...

It had been quite a lot of things to take in at once.

When he had found out that the girl's window had been left open, and that she was out- probably at college- he couldn't help himself.

He _was_ a curious being after all.

Now imagine his reaction when he found out that the girl kept a journal- did girls like Natalie had journals? He didn't believe so. Before this day.

So he had picked up the tattered book and opened it at a random page, preparing himself to read a bunch of curse words and perhaps some half-finished tune or two.

He _did_ found those things.

But he hadn't expected to find such deep thoughts there too. He sighed, and ran through his white hair.

He felt dirty; _guilty_. As if those words were too secret, too _sacred_ for anyone to read them. He exited the place the same way he had entered it, and floated slowly with his hands on his pockets and a furrowed brow.

At least he understood many things now. Many, many things.

* * *

**I **_**do**_** know this was incredibly short. I do. And this might not really relate to the main story. But as I said before, this was my little experiment, to play with Natalie's own words, to give you a better perspective of who she is. I'll actually try to write something better on the weekend.**


	10. Visits and Vices

**New chapter guys! I was halfway writing this when I realised that this had actually started as some silly project, you know? And then it hit me that it's becoming a much more serious- and longer- story than what I had planned to at first...**

**So. I don't know, I guess that I just want to say thank you to all of you. For reading and all that. Thanks?**

* * *

There are several ways to know if you're dreaming.

Some say, for example, that you need to try the light switch in the room you are- if it doesn't work, then you _are_ dreaming indeed.

Another much simpler way is, if you're well enough in touch with the most rational side of your brain, you just _realise_ that you are dreaming. As in, it's completely against Newton's laws, for example, to see a floating purple elephant with a fancy little hat.

_Everybody knows that elephants wear monocles, not hats. _

For Natalie, it was the fact that she was walking a narrow street with foggy weather that threw her off.

She was in Scotland, even when she knew she _actually_ was in the States. She _knew_ it.

Still she was walking down the narrow street, at night, with a lot of fog. She inhaled the humid air, and she smelt _home_. Home and regret and a few gazillion bad choices, given the fact that the narrow street at night with a lot of fog she was walking on, was the same place she had made out with that random guy. Twice. And the place where she had ran to when some police officers caught her performing a minor act of vandalism. And so on.

It still managed to transmit a feeling of "home" to her, somehow, even if that place was some kilometres away from her uncle's house. She had grown up walking the dirty narrow foggy streets at night anyway.

Natalie sighed and braced herself, some distant clock sung its song eleven times, and it was the time when the streets started to get busy again. Eleven in the night, Natalie didn't know why the dream's creator had chosen that time. Strange phenomenon.

And soon enough the streets started to crowd with flocks and flocks of young men and women, most of them strangers to her. _Most._

She recognised a few whom she tried to bury within her past- _bad_ choices for company indeed- but exhaled calmly when she realised that they could not see her. It was for the best, really, she had no desire whatsoever to talk with those people. Past was past and so there it should remain; she had successfully managed to improve her habits a wee bit, after all.

Vaguely aware that she was still walking, she wondered where exactly she was going. Whoever created this dream seemed to have a pretty clear destination for her. She shrugged off the feeling of generic doom ahead from her road, and shivered a bit out of the cold. Weird. Having grown up to usually cool weather she had never suffered from the cold too much before.

Then again, dream-like scenarios usually don't have a lot in common with reality.

Looking ahead, she noticed the street she was walking down appeared to be a little bit foggier, darker. She hummed under her breath and shivered once again, feeling anxious for no reason at all. Her hands were sweating, her heartbeat running wild... She needed for it to stop, and out of an old vice, she felt around in her pockets until she found the familiar rectangular box.

Half smiling half cringing, she opened it and saw once last cigarette.

Of course, there was a lighter in her other pocket too.

Natalie lighted the nasty little vice-in-a-stick and inhaled the smoke deeply, feeling the bitter substance down her throat and swallowing down a fit of coughing- after all, it had been over a year since she last indulged on her little vice.

"No one told you that's a foul habit, hmm?"

Natalie jumped at the velvety voice, and her eyes focused on the velvety black fur of a velvety creature licking its velvety paw in front of her.

"Oh. Evenin' there, Liss." She lowered her cigarette.

The- _unnaturally big-_ black cat tilted her head to the right. Then to the left. Then she huffed indignantly in the way only cats know how to do so.

"Tis completely shameful!" She told the girl. "Years and years without you humouring me with one of your visits and all I get after this well-planned rendezvous is an _evenin' Liss_?" She clicked her feline tongue. "That's not even my real name, but a petty little nickname you decided, lass."

Natalie shrugged and played with the cigarette in between her lips.

"_Fine_. 'm sorry. Evenin' there, Helloise the First, Queen of Cats and Cat Sidhe's." Natalie tipped an imaginary hat in half-mockery. "Better?"

The sleek elegant animal just huffed and narrowed her eyes.

"Watch out, lass, you've never been one for manners, and this years only managed to make it worse. Do _not_ toy with forces beyond your comprehension; your dear lion isn't here to protect you, hmm?"

Natalie ignored the little voice in her head that told her how a fool she was. _Please_, as if she didn't know that already. She averted her gaze from the feline and muttered a half-hearted apologise. It seemed to be enough to please the sprite, since her unnerving green eyes softened a little bit.

"Good." She purred. "If I didn't know you better I'd say that all this time you were trying to _avoid_ us... Luckily for _you_, I testified in your defence. I pledged your innocence. Be grateful for that."

"'_Us'_?" Natalie asked. "What d'ye mean by that?"

Liss walked with her long legs and swished her long tail around, sitting in front of Natalie. The creature's head came up to the girl's hip.

"We are _we_. That's all you need to know. Come on, let's walk." And she turned around, not completely waiting for Natalie to follow.

The girl sighed and threw her cigarette on the ground, before taking off after the feline.

"What are ye doin' here anyway, Liss?" She asked, her hands in her pockets, noticing that the- now empty- box and the lighter were gone.

"Why, hijacking your dream, of course."

"_What?_ Why-_ How?_"

"In order: I am hijacking your dream, as I just said, and it is so because I simply felt like it. I certainly did _not_ like the way it was headed- as for _how_... I am a Cat Sidhe, Natalie. We have our ways." She side-glanced at the girl and she could swear the feline was smiling. "And I am _far_ more powerful that what you could begin to imagine. But that's fairly obvious, I am a _queen_ after all."

Natalie nodded, deep in thought.

"So... Cat Sidhe's are actually witches that can turn into cats?"

"We are what we are."

"D'ye actually steal souls?"

"You have asked me that question over thirteen times already, lass." She hummed amused. "Have I ever answered you?"

"...Point taken."

Natalie swore she _felt_ the cat swell up in pride. She was Helloise the First after all, Queen of Cats, commander of the Cat Sidhe's, voice of the night and puppeteer of weak wills.

"How did ye find me anyway?" The girl asked curiously.

"You sure _must_ be kidding." Liss rolled her eyes. "Your _scent_ can be smelled from kilometres away, and it's an alluring smell for anything remotely magical."

"Oh, thank ye, ye're sayin' I _stink_."

The creature chuckled.

"How do you think that oversized mutt of yours found you?"

"Ye mean Fang?"

"I swear, lass, you and your habit of naming us spirits..."

Natalie simply shrugged at the accusation. Helloise clicked her tongue, but kept on talking nevertheless.

"You sure are a strange creature, and made by luck and chance..."

"What are ye talkin' 'bout?"

"Only mussing about your nature, pay no attention to this old soul's ranting. Ah, we're here." She finally came to a stop, Natalie following her actions.

The girl looked around. Somehow, while they had been walking, they arrived to- ah, well. The best way to put it would be "nowhere". Everything was dark and there were no distinctions between ground, walls or sky- or _ceiling_. The only thing that was there was a door, a dark wooden door.

Huh. Who knew a door could manage to look so imposing and mighty like that. Kudos for the wooden rectangle.

Natalie squinted her eyes and noticed that amidst all the dark, there was a dark_er_ shape. A really big shape. An _enormous_ shape laying there on the ground.

"As expected from a canine..." Helloise muttered, unimpressed. "Wake up! Come on, wake up, you flea-bag!"

The girl's eyebrows shot up her hairline when the _whatever it was_ started to stir and yawn, and finally, a three-headed dog rose from the floor, three pairs of eyes blinking away the drowsiness. Natalie also noticed there was a big sturdy chain that tied the dog to the ground. Probably for the best.

"Unbelievable, his only job is to keep that door safe and locked and he falls asleep through it. How typical of him." The cat-like creature then looked at Natalie. "I trust you're familiar with Cerberus, right?"

Natalie stared at the gigantic dog in front of them. One head sniffed at her and slightly growled. She gulped.

"Aye... By name only though..."

"Which is good. He's got the filthy habit of first ripping apart and only then asking."

Natalie shuffled around uneasily, her black orbs never leaving the three pair of red ones that stared intently at her.

"What are we doin' here, Liss?" She asked. The feline merely brushed her slender body against her thigh.

"_I_ have business to attend with him and that door. _You_ are leaving." She informed the girl.

"Why did ye bring me here then?"

"To trigger something. A reaction. Anything." The cat sighed to herself. "Look, I'll only say this once, I like you. For a human, I mean. Watch your back, you could get caught in between fights that are not your place, lass. Whoever might be hunting for some of your... _friends_, would most certainly go after you too, just because you are, well, _you_. And no matter how many _deals_ you make, some things are worse than death."

Helloise stood up in her hind legs easily, her full height reaching up to Natalie's neck, and looked at the girl in the eyes.

"Now wake up."

And like that, the girl vanished.

The Queen of Cats sighed and put both four paws delicately on the floor once again. She heard Cerberus shuffling behind her, and some slow clapping.

"This was interesting. _You_ never messed with one of my nightmares before, _cat_. I thought you actually _liked_ when humans feared the dark."

Helloise turned around elegantly, looking at the Nightmare King with haughty eyes and a bored expression.

"I am a cat; I come and go as I please, Pitch." It was her only explanation. "But you are right; I find it... amusing, when humans are afraid. It's simply _hilarious_ to see them shaking with fear." She admitted.

"Then why did you interfere?" He narrowed his eyes at her.

"Oh, what can I say? We felines often act out of boredom and whims. I felt like it, mostly." She told nonchalantly.

Pitch grunted, but kept an impassive expression for the most part. Eerie yellowed clashed with haunting green for a couple of minutes.

"On which side are you, Helloise?" He drawled his words slowly, almost threateningly.

She scowled at him.

"I do _not_ pick sides but my own. I'm selfish like that."

He let out a merry-less chuckle.

"Of course you are... And any particular reason to warn the girl about me, hmm?" He inquired.

"My reasons are _mine_, and weather you like it or not, you do _not_ have any power whatsoever over me, just as I have no power over you." She hissed.

"Ah. Queen of Cats and King of Nightmares, we'd make a _fine_ combination if you'd be willing to team up with me-"

"Once again; _no_. I'd rather be alone, _my dear_." She looked at the forgotten Cerberus in the background, the creature had fallen asleep again when he realised he was being ignored.

Pitch half-smiled at her.

"Ah, I see. You'd rather move the strings the way you want like the skilled puppeteer you are, a whisper over here, a suggestion over there and voilá! The events happen to twist in a way designed by your wretched mind just to... what? _Amuse_ you?" He arched an eyebrow.

"Indeed, you would not believe how _bored_ I am of lately." She smiled. "But you accuse me of being a puppeteer, do you not? Fair enough, I plead guilty. I _am_ a puppeteer after all."

* * *

Natalie woke up, her mind buzzing and heart running. She felt the assuring weight of Fang occupying most of the space on the bed- he didn't even stir with her movement, the damn Wulver. She ran a hand through her hair- sweaty, mind you- and exhaled slowly.

That had been weird. It hadn't been that _bad_ actually, but it had messed up with her nerves in some way. For all the years that she had known Helloise, the Cat Sidhe had never come to her in a dream- she didn't even know the spirit _could_ mess up with her dreams, but then again, she had always been a pretty shady character-, she usually preferred to greet her personally. She looked at the clock on her nightstand and sighed, it was before seven in the morning.

Glorious Christ, it was _too damn early _for this. She turned around in bed, trying to fall asleep once again, burrowing into Fang's fur in an attempt to find solace. Too little sleep wasn't good for her; it made her cranky-_er_. And she had been up working with Joel on an assignment for the best part of the night too.

_Damned spirits with their damned personalities. _

* * *

"Are you sure this is a good idea?" Jack asked Jamie. The boy nodded enthusiastically.

"Yeah! I mean, when was the last time you saw her actually having _fun_? Isn't it your _job_ to make sure kids have _fun_?" The boy half-accused him.

Jack rolled his eyes.

"Jamie, Natalie isn't a _kid_. And I don't think she'll appreciate us knocking at her door at nine in the morning. On a Saturday."

"But she _needs_ to know about the great snowball fight we'll have this evening!" The little boy pleaded.

Jack sighed, the last time he had been at the girl's door- err... it hadn't ended very well for him. That might have been the reason behind all his doubts- He _really_ didn't want for the girl to slam the door on his face. Again. Not when they were finally becoming something along the lines of "friends." Maybe.

Paying no attention to him, the boy proceeded to knock at the door; once, twice. They waited.

Nothing.

Jamie shrugged, and knocked again, harder.

They waited... still nothing.

"Maybe she's not at home?" Jack offered, shrugging. Might as well be, to be honest, none of them actually knew what her schedule was.

Jamie huffed.

"Or maybe she just didn't hear us" He said, and proceeded to knock even harder.

Finally they heard some groaning and shuffling around, and an _'ow'_ that sounded a little bit too masculine to be from Natalie. Jack arched an eyebrow.

The door opened.

The other eyebrow joined the first one.

Standing on her doorway was a dishevelled looking young man, his eyes blinking with sleep, and- _of course_- shirtless. He run a hand through his sandy hair and looked at Jamie- a fact which Jack scoffed at, but of course, it wasn't as if this young man could actually _see_ him.

"Please don't tell me you're some lost son I didn't know I had..." The stranger muttered-yawned looking at the boy.

Jamie just stared at him. The situation suddenly hit Jack- a young man around Natalie's age, half naked, who evidently had slept _inside_ the apartment. And the winter spirit _knew _that Jamie was a smart enough kid to connect the dots by himself too.

Ah.

Probably _not_ a good encounter for the young child.

_Dammit._

"Are you gonna speak up or what, boy?" The shirtless guy asked.

"Ummm..." It was all Jamie could come up with.

"If that's some seller tell 'im I do not want to buy anythin'..." Came Natalie's sleepy voice from some point inside the apartment. "...Unless they're sellin' cookies... I like cookies..." Her head finally popped up behind the guy's frame. Her hair was ruffled and there were dark circles underneath her eyes. She looked first at Jamie, then at Jack, and her brow furrowed in question. "Oh, it's just ye. Come in, _Jamie_, or ye want to stay in the hallway forever?" She pushed the young man aside to let her doorframe free.

"By the way, let me indroduce ye to Joel. He's sort of my best friend or somethin'." She announced while stretching.

"Ain't you sweet?" The guy- _Joel_, Jack corrected himself- said while rolling his eyes, a half-smirk on his lips. Jack didn't like him, for some reason. "Your couch is completely uncomfortable, by the way. And this place is a mess, Nat, how can you _live_ in here?"

The girl simply shrugged in her oversized sweatshirt.

"_I_ wasn't the one who said that we should stay up all night to finish the homework, sir. Ye know ye _could_ perfectly have gone home last night, but _nay_, ye're too responsible for that."

He went into the kitchen, visibly knowing his way through the tiny apartment.

"Well, _excuse me_ for trying to get good enough grades to pass this subject" He called from the other room. "Where do you keep the coffee grains?"

Natalie sighed and sat on the worn out couch.

"I dunno, look for them!" Then she looked at the other two visitors. "What? Make yerselves at home ye two." She spoke in a hushed tone. "What are ye doin' here anyway? It's _too damn _early."

"Oh, nothing, we just thought we could pay you a visit." Jack lied, looking at his staff as if it was the most interesting thing on the world.

Natalie arched an eyebrow.

"Jamie. Go to my bedroom and wake up Fang, would ye? If he sleeps too much he'll be restless durin' the rest of the day and I do _not_ want to deal with that."

The boy complied rapidly; he had taking a strong liking to the wolf-like spirit.

Finding himself alone with the girl, Jack sighed and floated on his back, looking at the ceiling.

"A'right, what is it with ye?" Natalie crossed her arms over her chest.

"Nothing."

"Aye, yeah right. I'm not stupid, Jack, what is it?"

He floated down once again and sat down next to her, focusing his whole attention on _not looking at her accusing glance_.

"It's just... We were kinda hoping of finding you alone..."

"So?" She inquired.

He shrugged.

"I've been in this place before, now you and Jamie are just going to ignore me until mister shirtless over there leaves." He rolled his eyes.

Natalie blinked.

Then she smiled.

Then she started giggling.

"What?" He asked, dumbfounded.

"Ye are an _attention whore_, did ye know that?" She ruffled his hair. She liked his hair.

"Wha- _no_, I'm not."

"Oh, ye _so_ are! It's even _cute_" She told him with a lopsided grin.

Huh. She was trying to get on his nerves. And it was pretty much working, thank you. He had a snarky comeback ready on his lips when they both heard the sound of _a lot of things_ falling to the ground, followed by a groan. Natalie facepalmed.

"Did ye break anythin'?" She asked to the general direction of the kitchen.

"Nah... I think I've got all my bones intact...though I might have a few bruises..." Joel mumbled.

"Oh, that's _charmin'_, but I was askin' about _my stuff_. Ye better hope ye didnee broke a _thing_, or I swear I'll skin ye alive, Joe."

* * *

**Oh, and for those of you who are wandering, Cat Sidhe (Cait Sith, Cat Sí...) are supposed to be large black cats, legend has it they were witches who could turn themselves into cats nine times, if they shape shifted 9****th**** time, then they would become cats forever. And they could steal souls.**

**And I trust that everyone know who Cerberus (or Kerberos) is. **

**Fun fact about me, I love characters like Helloise who aren't quite defined by the good-or-bad line. **


	11. Sin and song

**Sometimes I wonder if I'm really a woman. Then, like yesterday, I clean my closet and discover that even **_**I**_** have fifteen pairs of shoes. Three of them which are **_**really**_** high heels. And six dresses. And then I'm at peace with my biology once again.**

**BTW. First part of the chapter could turn into a flame war. Please don't do it, I know it's a controversial subject, but keep in mind that it's not *my* point of view. It's Natalie's. If anybody wants to talk directly with me about it, I have no problem at all when sharing my own spiritual views or anything. Spread the love, people, spread the love.**

* * *

"You never stroked me as a spiritual person, Natalie"

"Am _not_. Not quite, at least. I just happen to appreciate old architecture, and I love those monk choirs."

She had decided to spend the chilly Sunday morning into an old huge cathedral- it was some sort of habit she always had. After all, she used to play hide and seek with ghosts inside a half-destroyed cathedral in Scotland, she would spend her time in there, she'd look at the rusty old pipe organ and would imagine how it would have sounded back in its time, she would walk the hallways with ears perked up just in case she'd hear the whisper of the deep gravel-like voice of the signing monks that were once there.

She had always like cathedrals; they were a place where she felt at peace. Of course, the ever-present silence of the bunch of people who were there deep in their prayers helped to accentuate that tranquil state of mind.

Of course, before she could even set a foot inside the place, Jack had caught up with her and tagged along, impulse by his always-crescent curiosity.

"Of course, being _you_ it just _had_ to be something related to music..." He rolled his eyes.

She pushed the big oaken door and waltzed inside, eyes going through all the decorations, the paintings, the few dozens of people there in contemplative silence. She looked at her phone; ah, still twenty minutes left to the actual mass to start. She noticed the deacon smiling at her from his point at the front of the place, and she averted her gaze, uneasy.

Jack noticed, and arched an eyebrow.

"What was that about? I've never seen you, ah, _shrink_ before someone's eyes." He smirked.

Natalie grunted.

"Have ye ever met someone so _fuckin' nice_ that he just makes ye feel like a failure of a human bein'?" She whispered, barely moving her lips.

"No."

"Lucky ye then."

He simply chuckled, and ran his eyes through the entire place. If he had ever believed in something like this, perhaps in his life before being, well, _him_, he had not a clue. He shrugged it off.

"So you don't think anything they believe is actually real?" He asked her, truly curious of her views.

She shrugged with a grimace.

"I couldn't say. I mean, I don't really know half of what they actually believe in. Just that there's a God and something about Jesus bein' his Son who died for us or somethin'. I'm not familiar with any of their... rites, is the word?" She shrugged again. "I'm not familiar with any religion at all, actually. Then again, most people don't believe _ye_ exist, and both ye and I know that's not true. So... aye, I don't think anythin' really. What 'bout ye? Ye actually _died_; didn't ye see the light or somethin'?"

Jack casted his glance at the floor, his brow furrowed.

"I don't remember the _dying_ part. Only when I woke up... I really couldn't say..." He trailed off.

Natalie simply nodded.

"Well, if there _is_ somethin' out there, God, some mythical force, karma...whatever, I don't think it'd be very happy with me anyway. Look at me, I'm certainly no angel. To be honest I might as well be far beyond salvation or somethin'."

He smirked at her.

"Yeah, I figured that about you." He teased.

She swatted his chest.

"Shut up, Snowy."

He stuck his tongue at her. Boys will be boys. Natalie looked ahead and noticed the people standing up, and she picked a seat on the last bench, far from everyone, in a corner. Jack sat down next to her.

"What's going on?" He asked.

"Nothin' the mass is about to start." She stated, matter-of-factly.

"And we're going to sit here and listen?"

"I know _I _am. Ye might as well get outta here and go pester someone else."

"Why are you staying? I thought you just said you didn't believe-"

"_Aye_. And also I said I like listenin' to the choir of monks that sing during mass. And the deacon's voice is actually quite nice to hear too, even if I have no idea what's he talkin' 'bout half the time, it's a good, err, background noise. B'sides, it's easy for me to think of new compositions in here."

"You write songs during mass?" He deadpanned.

"Aye."

* * *

It was dark and it smelled of smoke. The furniture was all fancy, but all in dark colours and with a thing cover of dust. Still, what most surprised her was the fact that he left his door unlocked and half-open.

Natalie managed to avoid tripping with a forgotten closed box in the middle of the dark living room, and got a better hold of the own box filled with whatever-he-had-ordered and called out loud.

"Matthew?"

Nothing.

She sighed; of course he couldn't make this easy. Natalie heard a sound from some point in the floor above- really, the two-story house could have been beautiful if properly taken care of; it was one of those remodelled warehouses, judging by its location and the brick walls.

It looked quite expensive too.

She made her way through the messy living room to the dark wooden stairs, and climbed up slowly, making sure she was holding the box correctly. The second floor seemed some sort of studio, there was a bookcase, a big desk, and a couple of sofas over here and there. She noticed the music had grown stronger, and it was escaping from some not-completely-closed door.

"Matt?" She tried again.

Nothing. Again.

She sighed. Again.

Natalie approached the door, and kicked it open with one foot. She widened her eyes. This room was still designed in the same way as the others, with the exception that instead of furniture, it was full of music instruments of every kind and shape. She even spotted a Stradivarius violin neatly hung in the wall. She felt her mouth water at the sight of such a beautifully created thing. There were only around six hundred of those in the entire world.

Tearing her eyes from the instrument, she looked ahead to find the source of the music- ah, _finally_! She opened her mouth to say something- probably scream at him for numerous reasons- but instead she found herself simply _staring_.

Because he was sitting on the windowsill, the light that entered the room making the dust specs that floated around, giving it all an atmosphere of some wrecked and twisted fairy tale. She looked at the way his bare chest raised and fell with each breath- he was only clad in a pair of crumpled black dressing pants, and all-black converse shoes-; the way his eyes were closed in sheer bliss, one of his hands tangled in his messy wavy black hair, the other one holding a lit cigarette. She looked at the way one of his feet followed the rhythm of some song, hitting the opposite frame of the window again and again and again.

She knew the song that was blasting through the amplifiers- though it sounded slightly different, plus, it had no lyrics, perhaps it was his own version?

Besides staring, she decided to listen too. Because her lips curved in an amused smile when she heard the guitar chords escaping from the amplifiers- and she had always thought those particular chords sounded simply _sexy_. She licked her lips and waited.

"_Disenchanted lullaby, sing me yours I'll sing you mine, sing along now what's a boy to do...?"_

Now his voice wasn't particularly pretty. It wasn't neat, it was deep and raspy and maybe he didn't know how to properly sing, but it was certainly a sound that drew her and left her eager to hear the rest. It was a good voice to sing this particular song. She waited for the actually loud part.

"_I may be scattered! A little shattered! What does it matter? No one has a fit like I do...!"_

Oh, the way those words sounded so passionate and real made her heart skip for a second. She swallowed hard- why hadn't she ever heard him sing before? The way his face contorted and his eyebrows knotted when tearing the loud screams from his throat- yeah, he didn't know how to actually sing, she could tell. He'll have a sore throat the next day, probably- demonstrated such his extent of devotion for this song, for the music as a whole.

"_Whispering to pass the time, whisper for the days gone by, whisper with the voice inside of you... With this ring you will be mine, with this ring I'll multiply, with this ring surrendering to you... what's a boy to do...?"_

She swallowed a sigh. Natalie had always a week spot for raspy male voices, even if they weren't as neat or clean as others, to her ears they sounded much more powerful.

"_I may be scattered! A little shattered! What does it matter? No one has a fit like I do... I'm the only one that fits you..."_

Though perhaps the fact that she loved this particular song was making the trick as well. In any case, she waited for his voice to die, and looked how he brought the cigarette to his lips and drew a deep breath. Then he let the smoke go in small rings, his eyes still closed.

"Aye, so, in a scale from one to ten, how weird it is that I'm _really_ attracted to ye right now?"

He opened his eyes lazily, and scratched his stomach with the now free hand- since the cigarette was being held captive by his lips. He was pale and on the slim side, though he wasn't particularly lanky. Natalie stifled a chuckle when she noticed he even had a faint V line where his abs ended. Oh, he could _so_ have been the angsty moody member of a rock band with tons and tons of screaming girls that threw him different undergarments trying to get his attention.

Too bad for those ladies that he had chosen the classical music path.

He seemed to ponder about her earlier question.

"About a sixteen, give or take. Did you bring what I ordered?"

"Aye, I did. What's into here anyway?"

"Stuff."

"Ah. Couldn't have guessed that." She deadpanned at him, with a grimace.

He simply shrugged, indicating that really, he couldn't care less.

"There are some music sheets I asked for." He stood up and stretched.

"_Some?_ Matthew, this box weights a lot more than '_some music sheets_'."

He shrugged again, and put off his cigarette with the sole of his shoe. Then he simply threw it on the floor.

She rolled her eyes, now Natalie knew she _was_ messy, but there was being messy, and having no common sense of hygiene. He took the box from her hands and put it on the floor, opening to inspect the contents.

"How did ye afford this place, anyway?" She asked, looking around at the spacious room.

"My family's got money." He was intently reading the miscellaneous music sheets, trying to see if there was any mistake.

"Wait... Yer last name is Pilgrim... aye?" Natalie's brain had started to work out some things.

"It is."

"As in, the people who own half of the big corporations in the States? As in Malcolm Pilgrim?" She spoke slowly.

"That's my father's name." He was still too engrossed with his task at hand.

Natalie sighed for what felt the millionth time that day.

"Matthew. Yer family doesn't have money. Ye are _a fuckin' billionaire._"

"Some could say so." He hummed, narrowing his eyes at a missing page.

"Matt-"

"No, I'm _not_ lending you money."

"_Fine."_

* * *

Natalie had fallen asleep in the snow, holding her rabbit in her arms, her back against Fang's big furry body.

Jack poked at her head. She mumbled something. He poked at her head again. She finally opened her eyes and glared at him.

"I'm not some genius or anything, but is it really wise to fall asleep on the snow?" He sneered.

She muttered a curse or to against his kind and stretched, making Lapin jump to the snow.

"I don't know. I don't care. I'm sleepy." She simply told him.

"Why?"

"B'cause I haven't had enough sleep. I've been havin' nightmares these past days." She simply told him.

His eyes narrowed.

"Nightmares...?"

"Aye. That guy can be a real bitch queen when he wants to. He's classy, I'll give him that." She simply told him.

"What guy...?" Now he had a bad feeling out of all this.

"Ah, ye know, that tall guy ye told me 'bout... Ah, Pitch. Aye, Pitch, that's his name, innit?" She simply told him.

Jack suddenly stiffened.

"Pitch. Natalie, you met Pitch?" He looked at her, _stared_ at her.

"Aye. A couple of times actually." She rubbed her tired eyes.

He let go of his staff and grabbed her by the shoulders, looking completely serious.

"Since when? What did he told you? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

She blinked slowly.

"...He just bothers me s'metimes. What's the big deal...?"

Ah, that simply did it. He gripped her shoulders in a way that was almost painful.

"What's the big deal?! Natalie, he's _dangerous!_ Why didn't you tell me before that you've seen him?!"

She wasn't used to be shouted at- _by him_. He was lucky she was still too sleepy to proper shout something back.

"Chill out, Frosty. I can take care of myself, aye? No need to treat me like a helpless wee lassie..." She grimaced.

He grasped his staff once again, and shook his head. What was it with her that she didn't understand...? Okay, so _maybe_ she was used to weird creatures being around her. But still.

"You _should_ have told me-"

"Ye're not my _father_." She spit venomously. "I don't _should_ do anythin' ye say. I don't owe ye _a thing_. That clear?"

He vaguely nodded, his eyes still narrowed.

"Fine! Be as reckless as you want!" He ran a hand through his white hair, still shocked by the announcement. He actually thought they wouldn't be seeing Pitch in a _long_ time.

Heh. Guess he had been wrong.

"I need to go. I need to tell the other Guardians that Pitch is around." He suddenly said; his motions oddly stiff.

She shrugged. Why should she care?

"Do as ye please."

She turned his back and walked with her head low.

* * *

**The title of this story is directly taken from that song above (Disenchanted Lullaby- Foo Fighters). It's one of my favourite songs ever, if anybody's curious, you can go and check it out. And check out the glorious raspy voice of the glorious Dave Grohl.**

**BTW, if Matthew was real, I'd probably have fallen head over heels for him. I'm **_**really**_** into musicians that look a little bit scruffy and messy. That rough stubble is a plus. **


	12. Bags and bumps

**Since winter is coming to my country, I bought a furry white Russian-like hat for winter. I feel so effin elegant. I love winter clothes.**

* * *

Winter break.

Natalie fumbled with her car keys and managed to successfully lock her Morris Mini after a while. She turned around, arms full of brown paper bags- she just had come back from buying some groceries- and walked quickly back to her building.

She smiled to as the older woman was just entering the place too, and held the door open for the Scottish girl.

"Good morning dear! And a chilly one at that!"

"Mornin'! Aye, I agree with that."

"Surely Jack Frost has certainly put a lot of effort into that winter wonderland out there... A white Christmas seems to be around the corner." She chuckled.

Natalie winced at the mention of the winter sprite. She hadn't seen him in a whole week, and she wasn't particularly fond of the way they had departed. Then again, without him around, she could mostly resume to her life of self-pity, too little sleep, too much coffee, to many notes played, and the occasional one-sided conversation with a rabbit.

"Listen, Natalie, I assume you're not going home for Christmas...?" She asked, faintly worried.

Natalie simply shrugged.

"I don't think so, at least." She admitted. "But don't make a big deal about it! Really, it's fine, I'll find somethin' to do on Christmas." Such as over-indulge herself in cheap eggnog and play the violin until her fingertips were filled with blisters. Not that she was going to admit her plans to the woman, of course.

"Oh... You know, we always have this Christmas diner with my relatives, and I was thinking that if you have nothing to do, well." She smiled at her warmly. "You are always welcomed to come."

"That's really nice of ye, but I wouldn't want to interrupt some family rite or somethin'. It's fine, _really_." She emphasized the last word.

Mrs. Callahan sighed in defeat.

"If you truly think so, dear."

They bid each other a quick goodbye, and Natalie focused on the task of climbing the stairs up to her floor, since the elevator was broken.

_Again._

She opened the door of her apartment and left the bags on the kitchen table. She swatted Fang on the head when the nearly impossible big creature started to sniff at the food in curiosity.

"Oh no ye _don't_. Last thin' I need is ye eatin' my food!"

He whined.

"The puppy eyes won't help ye this time..." Natalie told him while taking off her scarf and throwing it in the generic direction of the living room. "D'ye celebrate Christmas, Fang?" She asked casually the Wulver.

The wolf-like sprite simply cocked his head to the side.

"I'll take that as a 'no'. " Natalie pursed her lips, taking off her boots and leaving them laying around on the floor. "Perhaps I should ask Joey what is he doin'. Knowin' him he'll do somethin' _really_ traditional... Maybe It'd be best if I asked Matt..." She snorted. "Though he probably just spends Christmas dwellin' in some dark spot drinkin' fancy wine and surrounded by his rich boy toys. And smokin' quite a lot. Maybe we could do somethin' together for Christmas Eve... Or maybe not."

She walked up to the living room and assessed the mess of her apartment.

"I should _really_ get around cleanin' this thing someday."

Said that, she turned on her heel and entered her bedroom, intending to catch up with some of her sleep.

* * *

"Say, Jean, what ye doin' for Christmas day?" She asked nonchalantly, sitting lazily on the frozen ground, sipping slowly her coffee.

The man raised his head from his half-eaten sandwich and looked at her curiously.

"You mean besides being busy being homeless, _fille_?"

She winced at the reminder of his situation.

"_Bad_ way to ask the question, aye? Let me rephrase; d'ye want to spend it with this humble sort-of-violinist?"

He simply ran a hand through his greying hair.

"Why? Don't you have anything else to do on Christmas?"

She shrugged.

"Perhaps I just want to spend December 25th with a friend or somethin'. We could sit around and mourn collectively 'bout life in general. Or we could have lunch at my apartment."

"Do you cook?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Hey, why are ye sayin' it like it's an impossible thin', huh? I actually _can_ cook. Or ye think I've been livin' from take-outs and frozen pizza until now?" She turned her head in fake offence.

He simply chuckled at her.

"Ah, _fille_, it'd be an honour to spend Christmas day with such a company." He smiled.

She rolled her eyes, and smirked at him.

* * *

Natalie had been walking slowly in the snow, Lapin nested in her arms, cuddling into her for comfort. Fang was walking behind her on his hind legs, his eyes focused on the stars above them.

It was a nice walk, really. Rather calm too.

Natalie liked calm things. Natalie liked calm nights.

...

Natalie did _not_ like being half-scared to death by some tall, furry creatures with weird hairdos and a sack on their hands.

She did _not_ like to be thrown into said sack- the bunny still in her arms- without some sort of explanation, only to found herself swirling and turning to finally fall into a _hard_ surface with a _'thumph'_.

She did _not _like feeling the weight of Fang falling on top of the sack that was containing her- the loyal thing probably followed her to _wherever-it-was-that-she-was_.

She waited for her dizziness to fade and then she crawled out of the bag, Lapin choosing to simply hop off to somewhere. She looked around. Huge place. Huge, pretty place.

It _reeked_ of wonder and magic and laughter. She cringed.

Behind her she recognised the bulky furry creatures that had kidnapped- _where those thing Yetis? -_ And some little elves with pointy hats that jingled whenever they moved.

And they moved.

As in, _a lot._

"Ah, good!" She turned towards the merry voice. "I hope zee trip was enjoyable!" She arched an eyebrow at the thick Russian accent.

And then she gaped upon seeing the big man that owned it. And the other four _beings_ around him. When she spotted Jack, she let out a low sound of frustration. Then she rolled her eyes and grabbed her hair.

"Aye, I do _love_ bein' manhandled and kidnapped by some _whatever-they-are_. Why can't ye all mythical creatures or whatever just leave me _alone_?"

She heard Jack muttering something that sounded terribly like _'I told you, North, she's hard to deal with...'_. She looked at the Guardian of Fun dead in the eye.

"For the record, I'm blamin' _ye, Jackaline_, for whatever twisted plot ye're plannin' for me."

"Jackaline?" He snorted, offended.

Natalie finally chose to actually _look_ at the people around her, she recognised them as the Guardians Jack had told her about. Big-Russian-Man would be North, without a doubt. Next to him Jack himself- she stuck her tongue at him in the most childish manner she could muster-; then a short yellowy-golden guy who would be the Sandman. Next to him, Toothiana, the female pretty thing with wings who just couldn't stop jumping up and down in excitement and next to her...

Natalie couldn't help the grin that almost split her face in two. He had heard about him, but she couldn't ever catch a glimpse of even the ears... and she wouldn't have thought he would be so, well...

Bunnymund furrowed his brow and looked at her.

"Watcha lookin' at, Sheila?" He asked.

"...Ye're a giant bunny."

"So?"

"...I _adore_ bunnies."

"I'd say he looks more like a kangaroo..." Jack muttered, his arms crossed over his chest.

Natalie clicked her tongue at him, and put both her hands on her hips.

"Don't. _Ever_. Insult. Bunnies. In. My. Presence."

"I don't know 'bout ya, mates, but I already like her!"

* * *

**I know this is really short. But I wanted to upload **_**something**_**, since it's been a while... so... yeah. I'll try to update in the next days!**


	13. Finding answers and flying elves

**Good things of the day:**

**I spent most morning in the lab, doing some chemistry work about spectophotometry, proteins, bovine serum, and Biuret's reactive. The good thing is that I discovered that, apparently, I'm a huge nerd and actually **_**enjoyed**_** being there for four (4) hours in a row, wearing a lab coat and listening to my- **_**overly intense and passionate about his job-**_** professor. So maybe Vet School won't be **_**that**_** tough. Maybe.**

**I went to buy some cereal for my older brother to one of those herbalist naturist food shop thingies, and came back with three (3) boxes of different tea leaves. I **_**adore**_** tea. **

* * *

"May I ask why I am here?" Natalie held the bridge of her nose between her two fingers.

After the initial shock of actually being, well, _there_- and the fact that she was overly-joyful of being in the same room with a giant bunny-; North had said they all had to talk about _something._

So they all walked to some sort of meeting room of some kind, with a huge round table and comfy looking chairs. And a magical train painted with bright colours that floated in the air around their heads, of course.

Natalie had chosen a random chair to sit on, and moments later Lapin hopped from whatever place he had hidden and jumped into her lap, his little paws on the table surface, and his nose curiously sniffing the air. Half a minute later Fang- who had been receiving some strange looks- followed the girl and stood behind her chair, slowly waving his tail and looking at all the shiny, bright new things around him.

"Ah, sure zhing, but..." North caressed his beard thoughtfully. "Who are those exactly?"

Natalie smirked.

"Why, my butler and my housekeeper, of course. Just imagine 'em with a tall hat and a monocle; and with a little flowery apron." Fang made a low whine. "They're a rabbit and a Wulver, as ye can see."

North chuckled.

"Do they alvhays follow you around?"

She shrugged. "Most times. Guess they sort of took some likin' to me, aye? The big furry thin' is Fang, and here in my lap sits Lapin."

"Oh!" Tooth cooed. "The bunny is so _cute!_"

Bunnymund solemnly crossed his paws over his chest, and laid back into his chair. Sandy smiled as always, looking around at the others. Jack was sitting with an elbow popped against the table, and his cheek resting on his palm.

"Thank ye, but returnin' to my previous question..." She trailed off, eyeing every one of them, her eyes faintly lingering on the Easter Pooka. "Why am I here?"

There was some shuffling around and stolen glances before North spoke once again- Natalie already guessed he played the role of their leader of sorts.

"Jack here" He motioned at the winter sprite. "Has brought to our attention that you've been, ah, meeting ze bogeyman; Pitch Black."

"Aye."

There was a pregnant pause in the room. It was finally Bunnymund who grunted and drummed nervously with his fingers on the table.

"Ya _sure_ ya seen Pitch, sheila?" He asked. "Tall, lanky, spiky hair, grey skin...?"

She seemed to gather invisible words from the air with one hand.

"I am many things, Ser Rabbit." She told him. "I'm a backstabber, badmouthed, ex-smoker, ex-drinker, overly dramatic, I've got a twisted sense of humour, I'm grumpy and cranky and _very_ irritable. I'm a wreck and can't tidy up a room for the sake of my life, I've been called a _whore_" Tooth cringed at her choice of words. "And many other unpleasant things. But I've got a good set of eyes, and I'm _no_ liar..." She thought about it. "_Yet_." She admitted honestly.

"Okay mates, this is bad!"

"Oh no! Pitch is back! What if it happens the same thing as the last time? What if this time he's stronger? What if this time someone get _really_ hurt? What if-?"

"That what I thought! But Natalie didn't seem to take it as _such a big deal_-!"

"This time vhe have to be quicker and zink faster-!"

Natalie looked as the four rambled on, not really listening to one other, while Sandy shrugged at her and gave her an apologetic look.

Really? _These_ were the ones that defeated Pitch before?

Fang added some of his own barks to the noise, just for the sake of it.

Natalie waited for them to stop. A minute. Two. Three.

She sighed,

Then she let her head fall flat into the table, creating a loud sound that made them shut up and look at her curiously.

"Is she alright?" Tooth whispered.

"She's just weird like that sometimes." Jack whispered back to her.

North straightened himself up, trying to recover some of the seriousness from before.

"Well, zhere's zhat. Ze other question though... Do you have any idea as for vhat does he vhants with you?" He looked at Sandy. "He hasn't been messing with your dreams, has he?"

The short one denied with his head, as a cloud of sand formed and 'X' sign above his head.

Everybody looked at Natalie in question. She ran a hand through her black hair.

"B'sides from the obvious fact that none of _yer kind_ seem to be able to leave me be? I s'ppose he enjoys annoyin' me. Or he wants to show off his abilities. Or he enjoys havin' dinner with a very impolite scot lass who questions his choices of outfit."

"So... ya have no idea?" Bunny guessed.

"Well..." She over-stretched the word, looking casually at the sudden incredibly interesting room. "It _might_ 'ave to do with the fact that I'm friend of Peregrin, and Pitch says he's been annoyin' him or somethin' lately..."

"Wait, you're friends with _the_ Peregrin?" Toothiana blinked. "As in the lion, Peregrin?"

She nodded.

"Is he alive yet?" the Guardian of Hope scratched his furry head. "Honestly mates, I thought he was dead or som'thing. I know he never was one to play with the team or anything, but he's been gone for like what? Over three centuries?"

Jack quirked an eyebrow. "Who are we exactly talking about here?" He asked.

Golden sand swirled around, shaping a roaring lion.

"Eh... what?" The winter spirit furrowed his brow.

"Peregrin is the spirit of courage and bravery, Jack." Tooth informed him. "He usually presents himself as a lion-"

"That looks like it's made of liquid gold!" Bunny finished. "But the fella's never liked being near other people, I b'lieve. He's sort of a loner, ain't 'im?"

"He's an old soul." North told Jack. "Old like Sandy, I believe." The Guardian of Dreams nodded enthusiastically. "He vhas one of the greatest and most powerful spirits once, before he disappeared... But Bunny's right, he doesn't like too much company. And he's really serious. Probably that's vhy he was never chosen as a Guardian..." He trailed off.

Natalie snorted.

"Peregrin a _Guardian_?" She chuckled. "Aye, right. I don't think he'd appreciate to shelter the whole population of children, nay. He just opposes Pitch because that's his _nature_, not his _mission._ That's why he's helped soldiers on the battlefield to keep on fightin', some nervous wreck of a kid to admit that _he_ was the one who broke the coffee table and not the dog, and even a stupid young man or two to actually propose to their girlfriends." She shrugged. "That's who he _is_, but he's certainly _not_ cut out to be a Guardian."

Jack leaned forward on the table. "You sure know a whole lot about him, Nat."

"Well, Frosty, I said I _am_ friend with-"

"_How?_" The spirit interrupted her. "Didn't they say he went missing like ages ago?"

All of them looked at the girl, looking forward to her answer.

She rolled her eyes at them.

"He hasn't _disappeared_. He just got really tired of _everythin'_¸ and happens to be excellent at keepin' a low profile. I sort of, ye know, bumped into him when I was younger. Liss says those things happen b'cause ye weirdos can smell my scent or somethin'- whatever that's supposed to mean."

Jack thought about it, carefully. Well, she _did_ have some sort of faint pleasant smell. He had thought it was her perfume at first. However...

"Who's Liss?" Tooth beat him with the question.

"Helloise, actually. She's just-" Natalie waved her hand in dismissal. "She's another sprite, don't worry 'bout her."

North had resumed stroking his beard thoughtfully once again, looking intently at the girl.

"So ya're saying Pitch is bothering ya because he _knows_ ya Know Peregrin, and the lion has been stirring things up with him lately, right?"

She nodded.

"Vhell yes, I can zee vhy he'll come to you and just you..." North mused. "It's settled!" He announced brightly. "You vhill be staying in here to ensure your own safety, and to, of course, tell us vhat Pitch might plan to do!"

Silence. All of the Guardians looked at their leader.

"I'm sorry." Natalie said; her face carefully blank. "I could've sworn you said I was bein' force into stayin' in here, surrounded by sprites and spirits, just b'cause some old half-beaten once-Nightmare-King happens to be messin' 'round with me from time to time."

"Zhat's exactly vhat I said!"

"Oh, 'd be a huge 'no' for me then, aye? Okay, thanks, goodbye." She abruptly stood up from the table- making Lapin fall to the ground and pushing Fang aside- while she stomped outside the room.

"Vhere are you going?" North called after her.

"Ain't it obvious?" She answered over her shoulder. "Into the sack once again; I want to go back to my apartment."

North looked at Jack, since he was the one that had brought the issue to them, and he was the one that knew her the most. He shrugged and grunted something incomprehensible.

Bunny stood up from his seat and followed Natalie, stopping her by gently putting a hand on her shoulder. She turned around to him and his _oh-so-serious-face._

"Hear mate, this can be really dangerous, for real. We don't know what Pitch might be planning or anything, so why don't you stay here, _safe_, for a couple of days at least?"

She blinked slowly. Then she looked from his face to the rest of the Guardians that expected her answer.

"_Fine_" She said. "But _only_ because the giant rabbit says so..."

Legend has it Jack's facepalm could be heard from miles away.

* * *

"Just for ye to know, I put the whole blame on ye."

Jack raised his gaze from his staff to the annoyed musician leaning against the doorframe of the room he was in.

"Oh, come on, is this _that_ bad, Natalie?" He sighed.

"I can't see Matt and mope around with him. Or Joey and stop him from bein' to nice and naive. Or Jean and talk about old literature and have a music session or two. And just in case ye haven't noticed; I don't have my musical instruments here!" She threw her arms up to emphasize her point.

"Well..." Jack put a hand on his chin, thinking. "Maybe North _does_ have some instrument around, or he could make some. You know, he _is_ a toy maker after all..."

Natalie walked up to him and put an accusing finger on his chest.

"Ye did _not_ just say that instruments are _toys_."

He arched and eyebrow and smirked at her, towering over the girl thanks to his height.

"So what if I did?" He whispered. "What are you gonna do about it, huh?" He taunted. "I don't know if you remember, but who's stronger from the two of us? Oh, yeah... _me"_

"I could make your life a living Hell, _Jack_." She whispered back.

"Oh, I'd _love_ to see you trying, _Natalie._" He sneered, ignoring the distant pang of nervousness that her threat provoked. She _was_ quite vicious after all.

She moaned something about '_of all the damn spirits there are in the world, he was the one who had to-'_. He simply chuckled at her, still towering over the girl.

"Ye _ratted_ me with the big four though." She said, crossing her arms over her chest, her accusation firm and harsh.

His demeanour changed almost instantly, he shifted his weight from one foot to another, his face becoming more serious. He scratched the back of his head, brow furrowing.

"Look Nat, I was worried, okay? Still am. You _can_ get hurt, I've seen what Pitch can do and- listen, he's _bad_. I don't want that." He admitted.

She calmed upon that confession- only a bit, she was still annoyed, _of course._

"Why?" She asked. "Ye don't have to worry, I know how to take care of myself; I'm a big girl, Jackie."

He chose to ignore the nickname.

"Yeah, and so far you've done a _great_ job" His voice drenched in sarcasm. "You said so yourself, you're an ex-drinker, ex-smoker, you even called yourself a _whore_. Surely a whole role-model."

"I'm still alive, am I not?" She shrugged.

He snorted at her.

Natalie simply put a hand on his shoulder, and looked at him with a half-smirk.

"Is _endearin'_ that ye worry 'bout me, really. But ye don't have to, okay?" Then she sighed, and let her hand fall back to her side. "Well... I guess that I'll go get goin' to find wherever my room's s'pposed to be, since I'll be stayin' in here for some time... See ye later, Jack."

He looked at her retreating, and a devilish smile formed on his lips.

"Come on, Nat! This can be fun; you'll have _tons_ of time to hang around with me and my irresistible charm! I'm sure we'll be _best friends_ by the end of the week!"

He ducked as an elf was helplessly thrown- with a lot of strength, mind you- in his general direction, and smiled to himself.

* * *

**Next chapter: some relationship improving between Natalie and Jack (Jackalie?); generic Guardians' shenanigans, including our dear scot girl falling in adoration with a certain Easter spirit, and more elves being thrown around.**


	14. Gypsies and gambling

**I'm sad. My overly-enthusiastic professor- which I found out today that I'm not the only one who's got this weird _not-quite-crush on him_- cut his hair. No more crazy wild greying waves of hair that add that certain atmosphere of too little sleep and to much work to his overall persona.**

**On a side note, I just spent an hour and a half writing some assonant poetry with dubious metric with one of my girlfriends. We do that often. Edgar Allan Poe would be proud of us.**

* * *

"You're staring, you know?"

Jack jerked his head to his left, startled. When had Tooth appeared next to him?

He blinked slowly at her soft smile.

"What?" He asked her.

She chuckled softly, trying to muffle the sound with a delicate hand.

"You have been staring at Natalie for the past hour, Jack." She tried again.

Jack Frost furrowed his brow and passed his staff from one hand to another. Then he looked at the musician on the other side of the room. She was sitting on a couch, her legs tucked under her with a book- who knew where she had found it- in her hands. Every few minutes she would steal a glance at E. Aster Bunnymund, who was sitting on a chair by the wall, inspecting one of his boomerangs with great care.

The girl would almost-giggle from time to time and avert her eyes when the pooka looked at her with a curious eyebrow. Then she would resume her reading before glancing at him in that child-like adoration.

Jack simply _hmph'ed_ in response to Tooth, and leaned against the wall.

"She's really pretty, you know..." The Guardian of Memories pressed on.

The winter sprite shifted his stance ever-so-slightly and looked suspiciously at her.

"What do you mean?" Though his voice made it sound more of a statement than a question.

"Don't _you_ think she's pretty?"

"I guess..." He answered slowly; _carefully_. "_Why?"_

Tooth shrugged, almost too casually for his taste

"No reason really, just a thought."

"...Okay..."

Silence.

"Because you know, you _have_ been staring at her for an hour now."

Jack sighed, defeated.

"What are you saying, Tooth?"

She bit her lip and gazed at Natalie almost furtively. Then she looked back at the Guardian of Fun, her expression that of a bubbly teen girl with a secret.

"I'm just wondering..." She whispered in a sing-sang voice. "Is there _something_ going on between you two...?"

Silence. Jack actually registered what she had just said.

...

"What?! NO!" He suddenly exclaimed- perhaps a little too loudly.

Bunny looked quizzically at him, while Natalie simply arched a curious eyebrow at the boy, her previous admiration being replaced with that sarcasm-filled disapproving look she usually had.

Jack waved a hand at them, indicating that it was nothing. Both resumed their previous activities without much interest into whatever had caused his outburst.

"Why not?" Toothiana distracted herself by fixing a few of the feathers on her head that had fallen out of place.

Jack sighed at her.

"Look at Nat." He gestured towards her general direction. "She's moody, sour, angry... probably the best example of _everything_ you shouldn't do. She's got no real interest into things besides music and her idea of "fun" is to spend a night into some God-forgotten corner of the world, with no-one around, and her nose buried into some book." He smiled. "She's really fun to tease, and she _might_ be pretty... when she's not frowning" Tooth had giggle at that. "But I assure you there's _nothing_ going on between us. Besides... she tackles like a _girl_." He finished with a slight smirk on his lips.

Tooth looked at him, genuine curiosity on her bright eyes.

"Then why have you been looking at her all this time?"

"Because it's no fair...!" He admitted through gritted teeth.

"What do you mean?"

"Just look, Tooth! Look at how she looks at _him_! As if Bunny was some sort of idol or rock star or something! And she met him like what, three days ago? The first time she met me she actually _slammed the door in my face!_" He narrowed his eyes. "You know how long I've wanted to meet someone my age- biologically speaking- who could actually _see me? _And I _do_ want to be her friend, but she makes it so effin' _difficult! _It's just... it's _not fair_."

"So... you'd rather want her to look at _you_ in admiration and follow your every movement with that awestruck look?" She guessed.

"Yea- wait what? That's not what I said."

Toothiana opened her eyes like she had just realised something _really _important.

"Jack! You're _jealous_ of Bunny!"

"Wha-? Am _not!_"

"Oh, you _so_ are!" She jumped up and down a bit.

"Why would I be jealous of some old long-ears anyway?!"

"Well... Because he's getting all of Natalie's attention?"

He grumbled, and let his arms fall down to his sides.

"Tooth?" He called.

"Yes, Jack?"

"This conversation isn't helping." He informed.

"Oh." She blinked. "Sorry."

"Nevermind it, just... I'm _not_ jealous, okay?"

He wasn't jealous. He _so_ was definitely _not_ jealous of E. Aster Bunnymund.

He _wasn't._

So what if he had been trying to get Natalie to open up to him for a while now? So what if- counting some rare exception in which she seemed to actually _enjoy_ his presence- she stated that she hated his guts for the most part? So what? That didn't mean anything.

He wasn't jealous!

Jack looked at how the girl practically _squealed _when Bunny threw her a casual grin.

...

Okay so maybe he _was_ just _a bit_ jealous.

* * *

"Ye know, I've always thought this is not a good movie for wee children."

Sandy blinked, confused, and looked around trying to find the source of the voice- he always got lost inside the huge place where Nicholas resided, no matter what- he finally opted to peek inside the room at his left.

"I mean, aye, _this part! _Just hear this song Frollo is singin'! It's simply just so dark an' _inappropriate _young naive minds..."

He was sure that was Natalie's voice.

"Aye, now it's the part!" He listened as she raised her voice and sang, her accent making the lyrics sound oddly rough.

"_Destroy Esmeralda! And let her taste the fires o' Hell, or else let her be mine, and mine alone!"_

The Sandman finally looked inside dark room. It seemed to be some sort of lounge area with a comfy looking couch with a big television set in front of it- why did North even had something like this on his place?

Natalie was sprawled in the couch, her eyes intently focusing in the movie playing in front of her- the Hunchback of Notre Dame- and Sandy at first thought she had been talking to herself all the time.

He looked closer, and noticed a small rabbit that also seemed to be watching the movie with her, cuddled in between some cushions.

Sandy never talked. That meant he had _a lot _of time to see, to listen, and think. And he saw, listened and thought things nobody else did. That way, he knew things nobody else did- he was the only one that noticed the subtle ways and changes on the demeanour of his fellow Guardians, the only one that noticed teeny tiny things that other seemed to think of as irrelevant.

He was the only one that got to presence scenes like this one. He smiled to himself when he saw the girl suddenly sit up swiftly and turn the volume up, singing along with the movie as loud as she could.

"_Hell fire! Dark fire! Now gypsy is yer turn!"_ She sang with such a conviction, her face contorting with emotions as if she was an actress rehearsing her favourite play. _"Choose me or yer pyre! Be mine or ye will BURN!"_

Natalie hit her chest with her fist, her face that of utter anger and majesty. She waved her hands around herself, as if both directing an invisible choir and trying to gather enough air for her to keep on singing.

"_God have mercy on her! God have mercy on me! But she will be mine or she will BURN!" _She let herself sink slowly on the couch, with a solemn face on. Then she regained her usual nonchalant expression and gazed at her rabbit friend.

"See what I mean, Lapin? Tis just too... _intense and dark._ Definitely _not _for wee kids!"

The bunny tore his eyes from the screen to look at her, and cocked his head to the side.

"What?" She seemed offended. "What d'ye mean _I'm _not suitable for children? Oh, the nerve ye have to make such a statement, ye rodent. Be grateful ye're just simply _too cute_."

Sandy chuckled soundlessly. She was... interesting, to say at least. And apparently, _very_ capable of keeping a very much one-sided conversation with an animal that didn't have the ability of answering her.

"Ye know a funny thin'? Most girls had a crush on that blonde guy Esmeralda falls for... Uh, Phoebus, I think. Which, I may add, it's actually one of the bad guys in the original novel, but hey, Walt Disney simply said "scratch that! Let's make 'im a charming, strong, handsome man with a heart of gold! Aye, why not!" She fell silent for a minute, apparently to let the rabbit _think _of an answer. "Me? Nay, as a wee lass I didnee want Phoebus- what sort of name is '_Phoebus'_ anyway? - Nay. I had a major crush on Clopin, the King of Truands."

The Guardian of Dreams smiled slightly upon this new revelation.

"Why? _Why?_ Well duh, the man's a skilled puppeteer, singer, he's the King of Gypsies and a rebel against most forms of authority. He's got this twisted sense of humour; and _good Lord_, the way he wants to _kill_ Phoebus and Quasimodo for enterin' the gypsies' hideout without authority shows how much character depth he's got! B'sides, I like his voice much better than Phoebus'." She chuckled at herself. "Nay, my fella', leave Captain Phoebus for the silly girls; I wanted the damned trickster with little to none respect for any sort of law."

Sandy tiptoed away from the scene, leaving Natalie to keep enjoying her movie at peace. He smiled curiously.

"_I wanted the damned trickster with little to none respect for any sort of law."_

Hadn't she basically described a certain winter sprite both of they knew...?

* * *

North slumped heavily on the chair at the meeting room of sorts. He rubbed his eyes tiredly, his usual jolly appearance forgotten for a moment.

The other Guardians looked at him strangely, they knew that with Christmas around the corner he was bound to be dwelling into loads and loads of work, but he had never looked so... _old_.

"Is anything wrong?" Toothiana, always concerned with the well-being of the one around her and probably one of the most compassionate beings asked him.

"Natalie." He simply grumbled in his thick accent.

The others waited for him to elaborate.

"Ze girl taught ze elves to play Poker! Yetis interested too!"

...

"She what?" Jack asked, leaning forward on his chair, half an amused smirk on his face.

"And vhith Christmas around ze corner! Zhey should be working, not _gambling!" _He seemed utterly distressed.

Bunnymund started to laugh, not making a small attempt to even _try_ to subside his loud barks of laughter. North narrowed his eyebrows at him.

"Ha!" The Guardian of Hope screamed in victory, letting his competitive side take the best of him. "Ya always gloat on how _important_ Christmas is, mate! An' all it takes to make ya loose control of the holiday is _one young sheila?!_" He laughed again. "_Priceless! _Why didn't we brought her with us sooner, mates?"

Soon Jack followed Bunny's lead and started to laugh too, mainly because the thought of Natalie corrupting the elves and yetis with Poker was not only _ridiculously funny_, but also _very_ possible.

"Oh, ha, ha, funny. Zhings can't keep zhis way..." North muttered.

By this time even Toothiana was giggling a bit.

Sandy simply sat there with a magnetic smile on his golden lips.

"Oh, come on, you have to admit it _is_ really funny!" Jack exclaimed. "But honestly, North? I think she's _bored_. You should give her a violin and most of your problems will be resolved, trust me." He commented, leaning on his elbow. "Actually, I'm quite surprised she hasn't been complaining _loudly_ about her lack of musical instruments."

"If zhat keeps her from distracting my workers, I'll make ze best violin for her!"

After a while, they managed to calm down- Bunny still chuckled from time to time though- and turned their minds on more serious matters, for example, the possible return of Pitch Black.

"Now, I believe the girl hasn't been receiving visits from ze Bogeyman zhese past days, but we still need to-"

"JINGLE YE CHEATIN' BASTARD! I TRUSTED YE! I TAUGHT EVERYTHIN' I KNEW AND TOOK YE UNDER MY WING! YE _BETRAYED _ME! THIS LASS HAS NO TIME TO LOOSE ON BACKSTABBER ELVES WHO FRATERNISE WITH THE ENEMY AT POKER!"

The Guardians shared a strange look between them. North left eye twitched ever-so-slightly. In silent agreement, they all stood up and went to look at what caused the commotion. Jack had barely put a foot inside the room- where Natalie sat on the floor with a set of card in her hand, surrounded by both elves and yetis who looked around them suspiciously, mistrusting everyone else- when an elf- the accused Jingle, they assumed- collided rather harshly into his face, making the spirit fall back to the floor with a _thumph._

Damned flying elves.

* * *

**Filler chapter! Because I wanted to depict the Guardians and their different reactions to what a mess like Natalie could do to them.**


	15. Tears and tattoos

**I failed an exam yesterday night- which explains my long absence; I was studying like crazy these past weeks. I still failed it. By three (3!) points. **

**The professor that explained how things worked on the first day was right, "welcome to university, on your first year you will run around all day long, spend a fortune on photocopies, cry, bleed, sweat, study until your head hurts, and you will still fail. Get used to it. It gets better, eventually."**

**I'm still waiting for it to get better.**

**Anyhow, after that failure I went to a bar with some friends, you know how it goes, I'm uploading this with a slight hangover, so be nice with me.**

**Oh, and I finally got around making some sketches of Nat, Matthew and Joel. They're on my deviant gallery ( mrswolffe ) .**

* * *

This dream was a little bit different than the rest.

It wasn't an explosion of bliss and joy and fluffy bunnies created from the times when Sandy decided to visit her and give her a hand- even if she was no child any longer.

It wasn't one of those weird nightmares that Pitch usually gave her, those plagued with Demons and monsters and the general feeling of upcoming doom. It wasn't one of those in which he appeared inside her dream to have a not-so-friendly chat with the girl- those places he created for her were far more intimidating.

Natalie was standing in a small cafe, it looked stylish and expensive. She was at a table- those round glass tables with iron swirls that played the part as decorations- and there was a small cup of coffee in front of her.

She sipped at it. Hot, almost no sugar on it. No cream or milk.

Someone knew how she liked her coffee. She waited for something to happen- she was evidently here to _wait_ for someone, or so she believed- while slowly drinking her coffee.

It was a rather good coffee. It tasted _expensive _too. Whoever made this liked to live the high sophisticated life.

After a while, Natalie heard some faint, almost non-existent footsteps. She looked ahead. There, on all her dark and sleek and elegant glory, Helloise was walking in her hind legs towards her table. She sat down across from the girl. A glass of some clear liquor appeared in front of the feline, an olive adorning the glass.

Natalie raised an eyebrow hidden behind her fringe.

"Ye're drinkin' a martini, Liss? The sun's barely settin'."

Helloise scoffed- and if someone could manage to scoff elegantly was the Cat-Sidhe- and swished her glass around, watching the liquid inside twirl.

"You are not one to point fingers, lass. You are certainly no rolemodel."

"Ah, fair 'nough. Tis the greatest coffee I had in years, by the way. Thanks."

Liss simply looked around, bored.

"I know it is." The black animal told her. "I have an exceptional taste."

"Course ye do..." Natalie muttered, her eyes rolling. "Anyway, is there any reason as for what I'm here? Don't tell me ye _missed_ me?"

"Even if I do- which I didn't say- that's not the reason. I brought you here..." The Cat-Sidhe sighed and gulped down her drink, still _somehow _managing to look as the most graceful creature there has ever existed. "I want to talk business with you."

Natalie sipped again at her coffee, waiting for the sprite to continue.

"As you very well known, I'm the queen of cats and Cat-Sidhe's. A queen cannot be if she doesn't have a crown-"

"Wait, ye mean the crown ye lost all those years ago? _The_ crown ye _can't _stop talkin' 'bout?"

"Do _not _interrupt me, Natalie. And I didn't _lose _the crown! It was taken from me!"

Natalie hid her smirk behind her cup.

"Course ye didnee lose it. What 'bout it, anyway?"

"I have finally gotten some knowledge as for where is it."

The girl simply stared at her.

"So?" Natalie said. "Go find it."

"It's not that easy, lass. You've been... dealing, with the Nightmare King lately, haven't you?"

"I... have. Why?"

"As you might or might not know, neither I have any power of him, nor he's got any power over me. Which means, his lair is completely out of my reach... if someone could go in my place..."

"He's got yer crown? Why?" The violinist was simply dumbfounded.

"I haven't the slightest idea; chances are he doesn't even know what it is. But I believe _my crown _lays somewhere in his domains."

Natalie mulled over the unspoken proposal. She finally sighed.

"Liss, ye're askin' me a suicide mission. Ye know I like ye, but I cannot simply get in there- not that I even know _where_ does he lives- and look for his crown. Not when the stakes are so high- not for me, ye know that."

"You're going to do it anyway. Not now, of course not. But then again, chances are you end up in there anyway... or that he'll come to you again, eventually. I simply want my crown back."

Natalie sighed again.

"If I come across it somehow... If I happen to have a chance at takin' it, I will do it. But I just can't leave ev'rythin' and go search for yer crown, Liss. Sorry."

"Seems like a fair deal to me. But if you have the chance to take it, _you will do it_."

* * *

Natalie woke up with a groan. She got up from the bed and walked around Fang and Lapin, who were sleeping soundly on the floor. She descended the stairs- _why_ had her room to be on top of some stupid stairs that lead nowhere except for this room? Why couldn't North have set the room on the same level as the rest of the workshop? - With heavy steps and allowed her feet to carry her to the kitchen. As the rest of the place, the room was unnecessarily big, but then again, North himself was unnecessarily big.

She put water into a kettle and set it to boil. Then she glanced at the clock in the wall; it read half past three in the morning. If only she had any of her instruments with her, she could have killed time making some music, but then again, she had arrived in a rather unexpected way into this place...

While she waited for the water, she walked to the opposite wall, laid her back against it and closed her eyes. Then she allowed herself to sink into the floor, the coldness of the tiles creating goosebumps all over her bare legs- she had been sleeping in a loose tank top and some boxer shorts the elves had produced out of _somewhere _for her.

Natalie sighed.

She really liked these small moments of the night, when everyone and everything was sleeping. For her, it was almost like a magical time, she could almost feel little sparks of life flying in the air like little sparrows, listening to the cacophony of breaths- some slow and deep, some fast and shallow, some snoring, some light as a feather. It gave her an odd sensation of calmness.

It also gave her an odd sensation of being home.

But that was understandable, back in Scotland she was used to walk barefoot at night by forests and meadows, with nothing to but the moon to guide her steps-

The moon...

She opened her eyes and looked at the window to her right. There it was, full, bright, a silent guardian. She smiled softly.

"Hullo" She muttered to the dark. "I've been told ye're the one who's in charge here. Is that so?"

Silence. She kept on talking.

"I s'ppose ye are. Ah, ye see... Lately... is like ev'ryone wants somethin' from me. It's either Pitch who wants me to make Peregrin to stop messin' with him, or North and Tooth and the others who want me to help 'em with Pitch and keep 'em informed, or Lissie who want me to act as a burglar for her... And well. Ye know where my loyalties stand on the first place. Ye know the deal I've made years ago, I cannot simply forget it. It's not of help that I'm stuck here for the time being either... I really want to see Jean, and Matt, and Joey. They make me feel at ease with them- somehow. In their own stupid ways. I just- I don't know. Guess I'll sort ev'rythin' out somehow, ain't that what I always do?" She sighed, still on the floor. "Thanks for listenin' anyways. Ye're good, thought ye might want to know it."

The kettle started whistling, but it was silenced almost instantly. Natalie looked up with curiosity and found that North was already pouring the hot water into two cups, and put teabags inside them. It always fascinated the girl how silent the huge man could be when he wanted to.

He turned around and smiled at her. Then he sat down at the table and motioned her to do the same. Natalie obeyed, and put two sugar spoons in her tea- while the Cossack kept on pouring incredible amounts of the sweet into his infusion.

"Couldn't zleep, I zee." He casually commented.

"Aye, I've always had troubles to do so." She replied.

Both fell in a companionable silence for a while.

"Pitch hadn't visited me in a long while, just for ye to know. Perhaps he's got more important things to do" She shrugged. "In any case... How long have ye been standin' here?"

She bit her lip. Those little moments she had for herself were for her and her alone. And for some reason, North oddly reminded her to Peregrin in a way- except that the latter was far less joyful and loud and just generally happy. She got the same vibe from him that the one she got from the lion, that feeling of being just safe, and the sensation that you couldn't hide anything from him.

She supposed that's what a little kid feels around their father.

Of course that the fact that both of them were incredibly tall men who could be intimidating from time to time helped with that vibe. She shrugged it off.

"Oh, I've been zhere long enough." He simply said.

She nodded and drank her tea. She liked coffee best, but it put her on edge, so for these sort of nights, tea was her preferred drink.

Speaking of drinks, she made a mental note and put it into storage of searching this place for vodka. She was _sure _Nort _must _have vodka somewhere. She just needed to find it- there were a lot of unlikely and interesting items laying all over the workshop and she simply had a knack for finding them.

"So..." Natalie started. "I've been thinkin'... Tomorrow it's Christmas Eve, and since you're goin' to be super busy anyway, and Pitch hasn't show his angled face recently... Can I go spend Christmas back at Burgress? And stay there. For a couple of days. Until New Year or s'methin'... So I can put some things together, I had plans to spend with some friends, maybe brin' my instruments or clothes here..."

North blinked. Then he smiled a warm smile.

"Ah, I zee... Vhill you promize to take care?"

She shrugged.

"I'll try."

He snorted, and patted the girl- perhaps a bit too strong- on the shoulder.

"I zhink vhe can manage vhith zhat."

The girl was homesick. He could understand it perfectly, besides... He could do with some peace and quiet for a couple of days- _weeks_. Natalie managed to somehow turn everything upside down after all.

Besides, he was sure Jack would keep an eye on her.

"Oh, and d'ye mind if I take some of yer cookies and Christmas-related food? They're pretty awesome."

* * *

She had been gifted with some sort of glass sphere, not unlike those Christmas domes you shake to see the artificial snow swirling inside, except that this dome could create portals to move quickly from some place to another.

Much better than a couple of yetis kidnapping you and tossing you inside a sack without any manners whatsoever.

Natalie knew she was going to use it most likely to get things from the fridge without having to stand up. It wasn't as cool-looking as a Portal gun, but then again...

The cake doesn't always have to be a lie.

So she could live with it.

After making Lapin and Fang stay at the Pole with a promise of coming back soon enough, she transported herself back into her apartment and looked around. She smiled; it was as messy and chaotic as she had left it.

She sat down and started to plan the next day, Christmas Eve was important enough. She might not have had enough money to actually buy something meaningful, but she'd manage. He deserved it after all.

* * *

Natalie adjusted her leather jacket and turned on her car. She drove until she arrived to the park, chose a parking spot that wouldn't make her walk too much, and got off. Then she started to take the numerous bags she had inside her car into her arms, locked the car however she could, and walked away, peering from over the bundles in her arms to avoid falling.

She tripped twice in her odyssey.

She heard it before she saw it, and couldn't help but smile at the melancholic music.

Jean was sitting on his usual bench, his eyes closed, playing his accordion as if it was a prayer- and to him it probably was- his set mouth into a tight line. Natalie waited for the man to finish before she approached him.

"Natalie?" Jean looked at the girl. "What you doing here, cherie? And what are all those things you have in there?"

Natalie peeked from behind the bags in her arms.

"It's Christmas Eve, duh. Now, mind me helpin' me carry these over the picnic area? I b'lieve there are some tables in there."

The man put his accordion under his arm and stood up. With his free hand he grabbed some of the violinist's bags from her arms and followed her.

"I _know_ it's Christmas Eve, fille, that's why I'm asking why are you here instead of somewhere else..."

Natalie shrugged- an awkward gesture given her position- and simply smiled.

"Honestly, I'd rather spend this day with ye than alone... at my apartment... drinkin' eggnog or somethin'... "

They arrived to one of the stone tables and left the things over there. Natalie fished a tablecloth from one of the bags and put it over the table.

"You are actually saying that you _want _to spend Christmas Eve with a homeless, French accordion player instead of with your friends or family?"

She put her hands on her hips.

"Why Jean, ye're like fam'ly to me. Despite yer overly dramatic name."

"You can't be serious-"

"_Aye_, I am dead serious."

"But-"

"Nay, no _but's_, I won't hear it."

"Natalie-"

"Shush!"

He sighed, defeated, and let the girl have her way. Natalie started to take out of the bags all sort of cookies and sweet pastries- courtesy of North, the yetis and elves, of course- and put them on the cardboard plates she had brought.

"Did you cook all this?"

"Nay, don't have the time or the money. Or the talent. A friend gave it to me."

"He must be tremendously generous then."

"Oh, you have no idea..." She smiled.

He looked at her for a long moment, apparently about to say something. Then Jean simply shook his head and smiled a watery smile at her. Both sat down and started to eat in silence.

When was the last time he had enjoyed of food as good as this one?

Truth be told, he had been feeling blue all day long, watching families walk around to get to some gathering or reunion of the sorts. He had thought of the things he left behind, everything just because he was a coward and run away. He even had to wipe a tear or two from his eyes in silence, his only consolation being that recently his spot wasn't as cold as it usually was.

Maybe Natalie had been right and Jack Frost did have some mercy on the most unfortunate souls after all.

And now... Now this girl, this grumpy, Scottish girl with her eye-rolls and her sarcasm and generic gloomy view towards life appeared out of nowhere. To offer him company. Warm food. A smile.

A friend.

This girl! The one who he had seen glare at the air and complain about the stupidity of people, who- as far as he knew- couldn't manage to stay through a whole class without being dismissed early!

This girl who had an odd thing for befriending stray dogs such as him. This girl who somehow understood what misery was like, what loneliness felt like, the uncertainties of going to sleep one day without even knowing if you are going to be alive to see the next sunrise. This girl who was painfully straightforward and didn't believe in love- at least not for her- but who could pull some mesmerising melodies that soothed the soul and made grown men cry.

This girl, who took in all the hardships of life, who accepted and lived with the fact that life, is, sometimes, an utter bitch, and instead of moping around, she embraced those facts, stood up with her head held high and roared harder at it. She always kept on fighting even if the struggle killed her.

He felt a lonely tear stray down his cheek.

"Jean...? Ye _cryin' _old fellow? S'methin' the matter?"

He brushed the tear away with the back of his palm, and smiled again.

"Non, everything is fine... It's just... thank you. For all of this, Natalie. You are truly an angel."

She looked away, evidently not used to receive a compliment to her character and not her music.

"Ah, it's nothin' really. Don't thank me yet, ye haven't even seen yer gift after all..." She muttered.

"Gift?"

"Aye!" She rummaged inside one of the bags she had brought for a couple of moments. "It's not new; it was from my uncle's actually. But I figured that ye'd need it more than I so yeah..." She passed him a long, thick, tartan patterned scarf. "It's quite old, but I've never found a scarf warmer than this one. It'll help ye on the cold nights..."

He put it around his neck. It was indeed incredibly warm.

Now he couldn't help it, he actually broke down in tears.

* * *

"I'm gone for barely a couple o' weeks and ye get a fuckin' _lip ring_?!"

Matthew flinched at the girl's tone. He didn't particularly enjoy being yelled at, but that was just a teeny tiny item among the long list of things he didn't particularly enjoy.

"A _lip ring_, Matthew?!"

"Yeah."

"Why...?"

"Why not?"

She huffed at his lack of words. She _knew _he was enjoying doing this to her.

"So, ye did it just b'cause?" She pressed.

"Basically."

Natalie face-palmed.

"I still don't get why ye're not in a rock band..."

He shrugged, and puffed out some smoke from his cigarette.

"I'd rather stay in the classical music area. Less drama, less crazed fans."

Natalie rolled her eyes, but smiled at him nonetheless. She had to admit she had missed his tall, pale being.

"Where have you been, anyway?" He asked her.

"Oh, ye know, just 'ere an' there. There was a bit of a situation back home so I had to went back there for a couple o' weeks." She lied easily. One of the perks of her life disregarding norms and regulations and the likes, she knew how to lie quite easily.

He simply nodded.

They walked together through the empty streets- it was Christmas day, everybody was doing something to celebrate- and into the small coffee shop they were meeting with Joel. They spotted him at one of the booths, and sat down with him.

"Merry Christmas guys!" He cheerfully greeted with one of his charming smiles.

Natalie stared at him.

Matthew muttered something about _stupid people he managed to attract somehow._

"Joey" Natalie started, carefully. "Why... Why d'ye have _antlers_ on yer head...?"

"Oh, this?" The trumpeter poked at the plastic things attached to his head. "Just trying to spread the Christmas spirit!"

He beamed.

He was proud of actually having gone out of his home with plastic antlers a top of his hair.

He was incredibly proud.

Natalie bursted out laughing, he simply shrugged it off.

"Take 'em off, ye look _dumb_!"

"Pshh, please, you two just don't get my sense of humour."

"_Of course"_ Matthew's sarcasm could be felt in the air.

The girl finally sighed contently and sank into her seat.

Matthew busied himself by watching the snowflakes fall behind the window and ignoring the world around him.

Joel simply adjusted his accessory to make sure it wouldn't fall from his head.

"So tell me Joey, anythin' new with ye? Ye have a piercin' or tattoo or anythin' the likes done without me knowin'?"

He furrowed his brow.

"Well, I do have a tattoo but it months old anyway..."

"Really?" Natalie's eyebrows shot up.

"Yeah, one of my cousins once dared me to do it and well... It's a long story. Quite embarrassing too, I'd rather not tell it. But I have a dragon on my back."

"Can I see it?" The girl smiled.

"Hey, I'm not gonna strip inside a public place just for you to see my tattoo, Nat."

She simply blinked at him. Once. Twice. Thrice.

Joel sighed.

"Sometimes you're unbelievable, Natalie..."

* * *

**I still hold onto the firm belief that North hides vodka somewhere at his workshop. The man's Russian for God's sake!**

**And I'll update a new chapter tomorrow... to apologise for not having updated in a long time...**


	16. Rum and revolution

**I've noticed that lately I'm talking with a lot of random people on the streets. And I'm no the one who starts the conversation!**

**People simply... approach me; comment me something, and then they start telling me the story of their lives. For no reason at all. And they're people like old rich ladies, street performers, stray businessmen who got tired of the office and decided to stretch their legs a bit...**

**The woman who gave birth to me (Aka: Mom) says it's because I've got empathy or something with people, and they notice it and I just seem approachable or something.**

**I believe it's because I'm the girl who sits by the seaside reading a book and appearing bored in general. And so people think I've got nothing interesting to do and talk to me.**

**Whatever, anyway, it's weird**.

* * *

Natalie looked at her surroundings. She sighed. She looked at the tall man in front of her.

"Did I doze off or somethin' while packin'?" She asked.

Pitch smirked.

"You did, actually." He drawled, bored.

"Perhaps I should consider tryin' no to stay awake whole nights..." The girl muttered.

"Perhaps you should."

Natalie looked around once again. The Nightmare King had apparently a certain liking for this infernal bar, since it wasn't the first time Natalie found herself sitting at the dim-lit place, in a table, while a couple of monsters and Demons and the likes of so scattered around. _Inferno's Bar_, she remembered the name of the place being.

Before either could say anything, the waiter appeared with a notepad ready to take their orders. She eyed at the lanky, grey-skinned, horned creature with completely black eyes- as in no distinction between pupil, iris, or the rest of the eye globe- and smiled.

It was the same silent waiter that attended her the last time.

"Hah! Look at ye, how've ye been?"

The water simply stared blankly at her.

Huh. Definetely not one for words.

"Come on, tell me yer name, so I know how to call ye next time I'm here."

"I beg your pardon, miss?" The... _man_, quirked an eyebrow.

Pitch rolled his eyes.

"Aye, yer _name_... What is it?"

Silence.

"Oh, okay then, I'll just make one up and call ye by that."

Silence.

"What about Carlos? Fredericko? Liam?"

Incredibly awkward silence.

"Oh, I know! HALLELUJAH! That's goin' to be yer name, Hallelujah! I met a guy named Hallelujah once. I b'lieve his parents expected great things for him, given the name."

Pitch face-palmed this time. The waiter- _Hallelujah- _gritted his teeth. His pulse could be seen pounding at his throat.

"So, Hallelujah," The waiter cringed. "D'ye recommend me somethin' in particular?"

"_Just order something, Natalie."_ Pitch was drumming on the table. He stole a glance at the waiter. "The usual for me." He instructed.

_Hallelujah_ nodded dutifully, and wrote it on his notepad.

"And for me..." Natalie thought about it. "Ye know what? Just bring me some rum. Leave the bottle. I've been watchin' Pirates of the Caribbean today and I'm feelin' pirate-y."

The waiter nodded again and faded into the background of the place.

"You're probably the oddest girl there exists..." Pitch mused aloud.

"Ah, ye flatter me." Natalie smiled.

"Why are you in such a good mood today, if I may ask?"

"Oh, I've got plans with some friends for New Year tonight. That made me happy, I s'ppose."

He nodded. After a while, the waiter arrived wit their orders, handing Pitch a dark- _really dark- _drink, and some rum to Natalie.

"Thanks, Hallelujah! Ye're really good at this!"

The lanky waiter placed the bottle of rum too roughly on the table with a _'thump'_. Then he looked straight at the girl with an annoyed expression.

"My _name_ is _Sebastian_" He hissed.

He turned around and left without further word.

Natalie smiled at Pitch.

"Quick question" She started. "Are these creatures real? I mean, I know I'm dreamin', but is there any possibility that I can actually meet 'em on the real world? B'cause I'd love to have Hallelujah as my butler or somethin'."

"...I believe he just said his name was Sebastian."

The girl waved her hand in dismissal.

"Hallelujah, Sebastian, barely any difference..."

Pitch hummed.

"So, Natalie, I'm sure you must be wondering why did I summon you here toda-"

"Nay."

"-And the reason for that is that- huh? What do you mean _nay_?" He narrowed his eyes.

She shrugged.

"I simply couldn't care less 'bout yer reasons to brin' me here." She simply stated. "But whether it's to threaten me 'bout a certain overgrown cat who's known to gleam gold, I'll have none of it."

The Nightmare King simply snorted.

"Listen girl, if you think _you're _in position to state the rules-"

"_Ye _listen to me. As I said, I'm _not_ in the mood for any of that. So I'll make ye another preposition."

Pitch leaned forward, his eyes narrowed.

"And that would be...?"

Natalie shrugged again and looked around the room.

"Ain't ye tired of always fightin' with ev'ryone? _Boo, I'm the Nightmare King, fear me, fear me! I reside in darkness and plan my next malevolent plot to erase the Guardians, and a certain golden loner who I shall not speak about!_" Pitch scoffed at her little speech. "I'm just sayin', doesn't it gets tirin' after a while...? I mean, when was the last time ye just simply sit and shared a couple of drinks with another bein' without _havin´_ to be at each other's throat or declare war or somethin'?"

Pitch Black, Nightmare King, terror of the children and major villain was utterly speechless.

"What?" He managed to mutter.

Natalie shrugged- _yet again._

"We have a bottle of rum and... _whatever that is_" She gestured at his drink. "So why not spend the time simply drinkin' and talkin' 'bout banalities of life? Tis a nice place too. And I'm pretty sure I could manage to find a deck o' cards somewhere... ye know how to play poker, right?"

He simply stared at her.

"Why would you want to do that?" He deadpanned at her.

"B'cause I've got nothin' better to do...?" She offered.

"Why would _I_ want to do that?" He raised an eyebrow.

"...I've got from a good source that all that chaos and stuff ye did was to be believed in, t'be seen."

He said nothing.

"And here's a lass who believes in ye- _obviously-_ and isn't afraid so that she'll run away or somethin'. Unless ye actually intimidate me enough to run away. Please don't."

He mulled her preposition over for a few minutes. Then took a sip of his drink.

"Fair enough." He finally said.

* * *

"What?! Really, had I known ye'd be so _fuckin' awesome_ at poker I'd never have asked ye to play against me!"

Pitch actually chuckled. She was a weird girl indeed.

"And yet you have no idea when to give up, Natalie. I won what, the last five games?" He sipped from his glass- now filled with the rum.

"_Six, _actually. But seriously, how d'ye do it?" She asked, her eyebrow furrowed.

"Why would I reveal my secret?" He arched an eyebrow.

Natalie scoffed, and gulped some rum.

"And here I thought no-one would be able to win me at this game... Liss herself taught me, ye know?"

His other eyebrow joined the first.

"Liss?" He asked.

"Helloise. Ye know her? Oversized black cat, proud, incredibly fuckin' elegant."

And his eyebrows shot up even higher.

"_Helloise _the _Cat Sidhe _taught you how to play _poker_?" He asked, unbelieving.

"Aye. She gets bored too often, and said that I'm not _too_ annoyin'."

"Huh."

Everything suddenly went incredibly quiet around them, and Natalie looked away from her cards for a moment, trying to understand what had caught the attention of the creatures around her. The lights went out. And another light lit up, right above a stage.

A beautiful black piano was in the middle of the stage, and a _very _pale man was sitting in front of it, getting ready.

Natalie assumed it was a vampire. It didn't sparkle, fortunately.

In an unspoken arrangement, Pitch and her decided to end her game and pay attention to the musician. The vampire- dressed incredibly elegant- took a deep breath, and then he started.

The melody was incredibly fast, his fingers moving and moving and moving in almost a blur, hitting note after note after note...

After a while, it ended, and most of the crowd applauded enthusiastically. Even Pitch clapped slowly, a half-amused smile on his thin face.

Natalie though...

She was cringing.

He noticed it.

"Didn't you like it?" The Nightmare King asked the girl.

She blinked.

"Ye're kiddin' me, right? He rushed it! He completely ruined it!"

"What can you possibly mean by that? He seemed really skilled to me."

The girl moved her hands in the air as if trying to gather her words.

"Most people think that the faster they play, the more skilled they are. Tis a _lie_." She explained. "Some melodies are simply _meant _to be slow and heart-breakin'. S'metimes the less notes, the better. Most famous pieces' brilliance dwells on their _simplicity!_ That guy was simply a show-off. He was _not _a musician."

She crossed her arms across her chest.

Pitch chuckled.

"Do you think you can do it better?" He asked her.

Natalie smirked and stood up.

"As a matter of fact, aye; I _do_."

And she turned around and started to walk towards the stage.

"_Please, _girl. You're drunk, probably." Pitch called after her.

"It's called _'tipsy'_, for yer information." She shouted back above her shoulder. "And I might be, but that's not the point."

The audiences fell silent again upon seeing the weird girl in the dark purple dress- courtesy of Pitch Black, obviously- climb the stage and sit in front of the piano.

Natalie closed her eyes and thought a suitable song for this sort of public. She couldn't simply improvise something with a piano- with her violin, well, it was a _whole different story_. But this was a piano and she was in front of some infernal crowd and the Bogeyman was watching her and she wanted to prove her point.

She smiled.

She knew the perfect song.

She hadn't seen the Nightmare Before Christmas in ages, but she still remembered the odd and gothic and somewhat cute movie, one of Tim Burton's creations.

God, she loved the man for his movies.

And, of course, she still remembered the songs, she still remembered a lonely piano and Amy Lee's sweet, almost angelic voice- she _knew _she couldn't ever dream of having a voice like hers- telling the sad story of the ragdoll-woman; desperately in love with Jack Skellington.

She knew her own voice wasn't as pure and polished as it should be for this song. She could sing the high notes well enough, but she knew her accent made every song simply seem _weird _and oddly rough.

She still struck the first notes of 'Sally's Song', and a heavy silence reigned over the place.

It was showtime.

"_I sense there's somethin' in the wind... That feel's like tragedy's at hand... And though I'd like to stand by him; can't shake this feeling that I have... The worst is just around the bend..."_

Pitch noticed an instant change on the girl the minute she sat down. Her shoulders squared, her back straightened, she appeared more regal, something simply _more _than the clumsy, annoyed, bad-mouthed Scottish girl he knew she was.

He knew she was right into her element right now.

"_And does he notice my feelings for him...? And will he see... how much he means to me...? I think it's not to be..."_

She closed her eyes and let her fingers dance over the keys, drawling the melancholic tune, the heavy melody.

A smile took over her lips.

It had been a long while since she had the pleasure of playing such a beautiful instrument.

"_What will become of my dear friend...? Where will his actions lead us then...? Although I'd love to join the crowd in their enthusiastic cloud... Try as I may it doesn't last... And will we ever end up together...?"_

Pitch leaned forward on his seat- as well as many others- as she started to hit on the keys with more force, more passion. The song was so powerful, yet so simple...

It spoke about the coming doom around the corner, a broken heart and unspoken love. It was an omen of all the bad things that would come in the future, and the acceptance of it.

And even if her voice sounded a little bit weird for this song, it was still so...

Wonderful.

"_And will we ever... end up together...? No, I think not. It's never to become. For I am not... the one..."_

She stretched a bit the last 'e', and hit the final notes.

Then she let the music die in its own sad way, almost abruptly. After all, in her own views, the brilliance about many things- songs, stories, novels, movies- also included their creators knowing when to stop them.

Some characters simply are meant to die, no matter how sad it can be.

Every story has its own end, there's no need to over-stretch it and twist it and bend it until the story isn't the same anymore, just because one is truly afraid of the end.

There was a moment of pregnant pause.

Then a werewolf at the back started clapping.

Then a banshee joined him.

Soon enough Natalie was facing a standing ovation.

She smirked and descended the stage without a bow- leave them wanting more while there were still clapping- and sat down on her table, sipping her rum like nothing had happened.

Pitch opened his mouth to speak. Then he closed it. Then he opened it again.

"Strange creature you are indeed..." He muttered.

* * *

Jack was looking through the window, only half-listening to whatever Tooth was enthusiastically telling him. She was excited about something alright, but then again, Toothiana could get excited pretty easily about almost everything.

He sighed.

His mind was elsewhere.

North had the idea of inviting the other Guardians over to the Pole for a small gathering of sorts, to celebrate the New Year. There was music, and food, and lively shiny things, and _lots_ of elves with their jiggling hats moving just about everywhere, getting accidentally- or perhaps purposely- kicked out of the way every now and then.

"What is it, Jack?" Tooth suddenly asked him.

He sighed again.

"Nothing Tooth, I'm just wondering if it was the wisest thing to do to let Nat alone by herself when Pitch is around the corner..."

She shrugged.

"It's cute that you care so much for her" She smiled at the boy. "But I trust North's judgement in the matter, and so should you."

He ran a hand through his white hair.

"Yeah, I know that, it's just that- Ah... Sometimes I really think the girl lacks the common sense to determine what's dangerous and what's not..." He trailed off.

The Guardian of Memories blinked at him.

Then she started to giggle like a girl.

"Oh _no_!" Jack said, before she could even open her mouth. "Whatever you're about to imply- just _don't. _Don't go in there, Tooth, seriously. I'll say it again, _there's nothing going on between that cranky girl and me_. Got it?"

She shrugged- again.

"If you say so..."

Jack groaned.

Bunnymund approached them, a smug smile and a glass of carrot juice on his hand.

"Hey, Snowflake, why the long face, mate?" He said while ruffling the boy's hair.

Jack groaned- _again._

"He's worried about Natalie." Tooth explained with a smile.

Bunny simply laughed.

"Hah! _Worried?_ Why? I think the sheila is pretty capable of taking care of herself, ah? Though I admit I wonder what is she doing..."

"Oh, ze girl said somezhing about fancy clothes, woods, two friends, and some firework show" North had appeared next to them at some point, but none of them knew when exactly.

"Woods? Firework show?" Jack asked.

North shrugged.

"Huh." Bunny mused out loud. "That sounds pretty interesting, actually..."

"Well..." Jack started. "I suppose we _could _go check on her..." He waited for someone to bite onto the bait.

"Wait, like _spying _on her?" Tooth seemed frantic about the idea. "We _can't _do that!"

"Come on" Jack pressed, looking at the three Guardians around him. "You're gonna tell me none of you it's actually _curious _about how does a girl like her celebrates New Year?"

All of them looked at each other with guilty faces. All of them shuffled uncomfortably.

Jack smiled broadly.

"It's settled then. Sandy, you coming?" He asked the Guardian of Dreams, who was across the room, apparently having a staring contest with Fang.

Sandy gave him a thumbs-up.

The winter spirit laughed.

"Come on, let's go! If she talked about some woods, then I'm sure I know _exactly _where she is!"

* * *

Turns out Jack didn't knew _exactly _where she was.

Nope, she wasn't at the frozen lake as he first thought- then again, perhaps that place was a bit too personal for her to simply share it with more people.

Natalie was, instead, sitting at the edge of the forest, just where the trees ended. She was wearing that- _too short- _black dress Jack had seen her wearing before, and she was sitting on a blanket.

She wasn't alone though.

Her head was resting on a guy's shoulder- he was pale and tall with a mop of wavy black hair, and a cigarette was dangling from his lips- while another guy- this one had sandy hair and a pretty charming smile- was laying on his back on the blanket, his head on Natalie's lap.

Both were dressed in very fancy suits. They were all laughing at something.

The five Guardians, on the other hand, were all standing behind a particularly big tree, watching in silence- as silent as the group could be.

Which meant that- with the exception of Sandy, of course- they weren't very silent.

At all.

Fortunately, Natalie seemed too distracted to even hear them.

"Ah, I zee zhose are Natalie's friends..." North commented.

"They seem like good people." Tooth smiled. "And the blonde one is pretty cute. Is he her boyfriend?"

"_No_." Jack said between gritted teeth. There was something he still didn't like about Joel- maybe there was something he didn't like about Matthew too, but even if the guy couldn't actually see him, he was still too intimidating.

They watched as Joel took a harmonica out of the pocket of his pants, and took it to his lips. He closed his eyes and played an easy blues, while Natalie absent-mindedly ran her fingers through his hair, while speaking in hushed tones to Matthew about something that made them laugh really loud again.

Then Matthew grasped a bottle and took it to his lips. He gave a long gulp. Then he passed the bottle to Natalie; she did the same.

Tooth's eyes widened.

"Are they drinking?!" She whispered, concerned. "Isn't Natalie underage?!"

"_Not in Scotland"_ Muttered Jack as a reflex, quoting her excuse for pretty much everything by heart. "And I think the one with the harmonica is underage too. I'm not sure about the tall one; I believe he's older than the other two."

"Shouldn't we do something about it?!" Toothiana pressed.

Bunny put a furry paw on her shoulder, and patted her, trying to calm her down.

"It's New Year, mate. Besides, I don't think it's so hard to believe coming from the sheila, is it?"

"Well, no but-"

"You worry too much Tooth! And we're zhere in case something happens to her, so Natalie's safe!"

"I guess so..." She still looked concerned.

But then again, Tooth was _always_ concerned about the well-being of the others.

* * *

"Okay, so I have a proposal for the two of you!" Joel exclaimed, his voice slightly slurring.

Natalie took the harmonica from his hands, inspecting the instrument as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. Then again, alcohol produces strange behaviour on people.

Matthew simply looked at him, a contented smile on his lips- once again, _alcohol. _It produces weird things, such as a smiling Matthew.

"Let's share some things that most people don't know 'bout us, alright?"

Natalie giggled a long time before simply nodding her head.

Matthew shrugged. "Why not?" He said. "But you start, dimwit, since t'was your idea."

"Fair enough." Joel thought for a moment. "None of my relationships lasted more than three months." He simply told them.

Natalie smirked.

"Really? C'mmitment issues?" She asked, her accent impossibly thick.

Matthew snickered.

"Sorta..." The trumpeter answered. "I simply suck at long-term relationships, I guess..."

"Okay, I s'ppose it's my turn then..." Natalie trailed off. "Hmm... I got busted once while committin' a minor act of vandalism. The cops let me go with a warnin', but it's a thin' I've never told anyone..."

Matthew looked at her, intrigued.

"Really?" He asked. "What did you do?"

"Oh, I just made some not-quite-legal graffiti art on a wall..." She shrugged.

Joel smirked at her.

"My, my, you sure like testing the limits, Nat."

"What was yer first clue?" She returned the smirk.

"Once, when I was a kid, I tripped down the stairs and broke my nose." Matthew commented casually. "Told everyone that I got into a fight. Heh, I never quite told anyone the truth."

The three shared a look.

"I say we toast for these past mishaps, regrets and stupid ideas, and hope that we get more of those on this year to come!" Joel looked really serious while giving his short speech.

The other two cheered, and everybody took a drink of the bottle.

* * *

"Oh God. Oh God, oh God, oh God! Are they drunk!?" Tooth was freaking out.

"Yeah..." Jack arched an eyebrow. "I'd say they are _quite_ drunk..."

* * *

The little confessions started to roll from their lips nonstop.

"I listen to pop songs like Call Me Maybe while I'm blowing off m'hair." Natalie offered.

"I hate the word "moreover", and I have no idea why..." Joel trailed off.

Matthew took a deep breath.

"I watched the last Les Mis movie at least four times. I know all of the songs by heart. I cry like a baby every time Gavroche and Eponine die."

Silence.

"Really?" Natalie looked at him. "Good. B'cause me too."

Joel chuckled.

"And here I thought I was the only one!" He said.

All of them started laughing at once, soon tears started to stream down their eyes in their helpless fit of laughter. Then there was an explosion, and all of them looked at the sky.

A silence of reverence took them as prisoners as the sky lit up with a thousand fireworks.

"Huh" Matthew commented. "I guess it's midnight already. Happy New Year, you weirdos."

They all smiled at each other enjoying the show.

After a while, the last firework died- just with their last bottle- and they decided it was time to head home.

Natalie suddenly stopped in her motions while gathering their things up.

"Hey!" She drew their attention. "D'ye hear that?"

"Is the people at Burgess... _singing_?" Joel smiled a boyish grin.

"I b'lieve so! Must be the end of the firework show!"

Matthew simply sighed.

"This is about to become one of those Disney movies..." He muttered. "If we start dancing and singing, please, somebody, kill me."

Joel looked down, deep in thought.

Then he smiled.

"Hey... do you hear the people sing...?" He trailed off.

"Aye, Joe." Natalie rolled her eyes. "That's what we've been talkin' 'bout..."

"No, _no_!" The blonde pressed. "Listen. _Do you hear the people sing?"_

Natalie blinked at him.

Then she smiled too.

"_Singin' the song of angry men...?_"

Matthew's eyes widened. Then he cursed.

"Oh, no. Don't think I'm going to be a part of-"

But they were already singing, _loudly_, and walking back towards the main part of the city.

"_It is the music of the people who will not be slaves again! When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums, there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!"_ They sang.

They were terribly off-pitch. They slurred and mixed up some words, all the while walking- dancing- and smiling like idiots. They were extremely drunk.

And their moment of silly happiness was contagious, because Matthew joined them in their singing with his deep raspy voice.

"_Will you join in our crusade? Who will be strong and stand with me? Beyond the barricade is there a world you long to see?! Then join in the fight that will give you the right to be free!"_

Yes- they were _very, very drunk._

"_Do you hear the people sing?! Singing the song of angry men! It is the music of the people who will not be slaves again! When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drums, there is a life about to start when tomorrow comes!"_

They were drunk.

But they were young, and happy, and they were friends.

Jack envied that friendship for a moment, that ability to simply enjoy the others presence and do crazy, stupid, senseless things.

Even Tooth had to smile at their antics.

"_Will you give all you can give so that our banner may advance?! Some will fall and some will live, will you stand up and take your chance?! The blood of the martyrs will water the meadows of France!"_

It was a song about revolution- Hell, it was a song about a _French _revolution. It had nothing to do with New Year, at all.

But there were still singing, while trying to walk straight, laughing as if they were sharing some private joke. And people looked at them strangely.

The Guardians were left alone, in silence.

Finally Jack spoke.

"Yeah... ahem. Perhaps I should follow Nat and watch that she doesn't do something _too_ stupid..."

Everybody agreed.


	17. Cows and cuddles

**So, I've been thinking on adding tumblr to my repertoire of social networks. If this story gets a wee bit more known and stuff, I'll probably do it, and upload there a lot of doodles... and make that thingy people do on their tumblr's where you can ask me (or the characters) a question and stuff and I (they) reply along with a sketch or something.**

**Would you like that?**

* * *

Jack had waited until Natalie was on her own. Her two friends dropped her right in front of her building, and they kept on walking- _stumbling-_ towards their own homes.

How lovely.

Though Jack had to give it to Tall-And-Dark- _Matthew_, but he didn't feel like actually learning their proper names- he looked the least intoxicated of them. He could actually walk into a straight line without any more than a stumble every once in a while.

It was easy to tell he was drunk though.

He was smiling.

Matthew simply did _not_ smile.

The other one... the other one was actually _giggling_. He seemed to consider everything tremendously funny in his drunken state, because every three or four words, he'd simply break into yet _another_ fit of laughter.

And Nat... She couldn't stop talking. As in, she suddenly had the impulse to state her every thought, her every opinion, without any sort of filter. It didn't help that her accent was so thick with the help of the alcohol that it was extremely hard for anyone to actually understand what she was trying to say.

At any rate, back with the first scenario: Natalie alone facing the door of her building, both male friends gone.

Enter Jack through left stage.

He approached the girl, staff casually leaning on his shoulder, his free hand on the pocket of his hoodie. She didn't acknowledge him.

Natalie was simply glaring at the door, as if it had just insulted her mother and the mother of her mother, and the whole line of mothers before her. And probably a bunny too.

"Natalie?" Jack called after her.

She jumped, having failed to notice the presence of the winter sprite before. She turned around- and swayed dangerously to the side for a second before regaining her balance. Jack readied himself for what could possibly be a storm of profanations against him and everything he represented-

She was grinning like a madman-_woman_.

"Jack!" She laughed. "Didnee see ye there!" And she actually gave him hug.

Natalie _hugged him._

He simply stood there, his mouth open, while the girl still had her arms around his waist. She noticed his stiffness.

"Ye're s'pposed to hug me back, ye silly..." She muttered-slurred.

With left hand- the one that hadn't been holding his staff- he sort of hugged her.

Huh. It was somewhat nice.

It always got to him, this sort of things. Hugging, hand-holding, just being _close_ with another individual. He blamed it on the fact that he had spent alone over three centuries, and now he simply _adored_ the touch of another being. Plus, she was warm- much warmer than he, _obviously._

"Not that I'm complaining or anything, but why are you so happy to see me?" He asked the girl, once she had released him.

She simply shrugged.

"Dunno. 'M a happy lass I s'ppose."

He blinked. Then, slowly, a mischievous smile made its way into his lips. So, Natalie was a happy drunk, huh? And she simply was _a lot_ more talkative too- as far as he had seen-, right?

...He knew he _probably_ shouldn't take this rare opportunity and use it to his advantage. The girl wasn't properly herself, she was quite vulnerable... blah, blah, blah...

_Yeah right._

_Like Hell he was going to let a chance like this escape from his cold grasp._

And it was going to be incredibly fun.

He looked once again at the girl, who had resumed her staring contest with the door. Jack arched an eyebrow and put a hand on her shoulder.

"_What_ are you doing?" He asked her.

Natalie narrowed her eyes.

"Not that I want to alarm ye or anythin'..." She started, almost cautiously. "But I b'lieve the door forgot how to open..."

Jack resisted the urge of face-palming.

"The door... forgot how to open..." He repeated; his tone carefully calm.

"Aye. The door _forgot how to door_."

He grasped her chin with one hand, and turned her head to the side, so that Natalie was forcefully looking up into his icy stare. He looked at her long and her.

"This is just a wild thought, Nat..." He was talking the same way you would talk to a particularly dumb kid. "But... have you tried using, oh, I don't know, the key, maybe...?"

He observed as she blinked owlishly at him- and took the time to admire her black eyes. He had read about eyes being the window of the soul, he had heard here and there about incredible descriptions on eyes, from forest-like green to deep stormy azure and even some coffee-coloured ones that were as warm as the summer sun.

He eyes were simply black.

Dark. Like a moonless sky. Without any particular shine or gleam.

Just plain black.

...For some weird reason, they suited her admirably.

He stared at her- and she stared back- for quite a while. Then he heard the girl hum out loud.

"That's actually a rather remarkable idea..." She told him.

_Now _he couldn't help it.

He simply _had_ to let go of her face and slap his palm into his own forehead- perhaps a little bit too strongly. He was sure he was going to have a mark or something.

After some minutes of Natalie fumbling with her key- _"Sheesh woman, just let _me _do it!" "Nay! Ye're not _majestic_ 'nough!" "What's that supposed to mean?" "Ask Thorin!"_- They finally got inside the building.

The violinist headed to the stairs instinctively, but Jack stopped her by simply floating around her until he was just in front of her.

"What are you doing? There's an elevator right there." He stated.

She rolled her eyes, as if she was incredibly annoyed and he was saying something incredibly stupid.

"It's _broken_" She explained, successfully separating the last word in two syllables to add some emphasis. "It's _always_ broken."

She simply pushed Jack to the side and headed for the stairs once again.

"She's too drunk to remember that she's supposed to basically evade any sort of friendly behaviour towards me, but she still can remember that the _damn_ elevator is broken..." He muttered to himself, torn in between amusement and exasperation.

Then he simply rushed to Natalie's side to avoid her from stumbling and falling backwards. He sighed as he put an arm around the girl's waist to steady her.

"Honestly Natalie, at least you could take of your _heels _off."

"But I look so fuckin' _classy_..." She whined.

* * *

Helping a drunken girl that didn't seem able to stop chatting about everything at the same time through several flights of stairs wasn't a thing Jack had seen himself doing in the near future.

However, after the struggling and sighing and swearing a lot; after some more painful minutes while Natalie managed to open the door of her apartment- _"I still don't get the '_majestic'_ thing!" "I told ye, ask Thorin!" Who the Hell is Thorin?" "The most majestic dwarf ye'll ever see!"_- Jack had finally persuaded the girl to lie down on her bed and _take off her damn heels._

How did women walked around in those, anyway?

She was simply laying on top of the covers, her hands laced behind her head, still on her black dress. He was sitting on the edge of her bed, trying- and _failing_- to convince her that she should try to get some sleep.

She simply wouldn't stop smiling and talking.

"Hey, Jack?"

He sighed for what could have been easily the thirtieth time of the night. She took that as an invitation to continue talking.

"I miss Scotland s'metimes..." She trailed off.

"Yeah?" He had resigned to simply listen to her ramble only half-interested. Perhaps he would even learn something interesting about her.

"Aye... I could drink- _legally_- if I was there..."

Ah. It figured. He grimaced; he really should have seen it coming.

"B'sides, it's a pretty fuckin' awesome country. D'ye now that trespassing isn't illegal there?"

He raised his eyebrows. Was she making up this stuff?

"Really?" He asked her, now genuinely curious.

"_Aye._ Ye can actually go hikin' and adventurin' and stuff through someone else's lands... Ye can't damage or camp though. And ye should watch out for vicious cows..."

"Cows...?"

"Speakin' of those, there ye can't be drunk _and_ in charge of a cow."

He simply _had_ to chuckle at that. She was too drunk to be able to climb the stairs alone, but she still could remember a set of weird laws from Scotland. And recite them as if she was actually _proud_ of those.

"So, if you were there right now and wanted a cow, you couldn't get one?" He simply opted for going with her drunken blabber.

It was quite funny, in a way.

"Exactly! Not that I'm much of a cow person anyway... Though if I had a cow, I'd name 'er Shaniqua."

"You what?"

"Shaniqua. Shaniqua the Cow. What would ye name yer cow, Jack?"

He blinked at her, trying to fight the urge to snort.

"I don't know" He shrugged.

Natalie rolled to her side and popped herself up on her elbow; the action caused her already short dress to become shorter. Jack tried really hard not to stare.

Really, he wasn't staring. Not even a peek.

...

Okay so _maybe_ he stole a glance or two- or three-, but honestly, he was still a male on his late teens and she had some pretty long legs and there was just so much _skin_ that he simply _had_ to look!

...Not that he was making up excuses or anything. Not that he actually _needed_ an excuse.

The girl simply looked at him.

"What d'ye mean ye don't know? Ye have t'know. The future of yer cow depends on it!" She stated so with a 'well duh' tone that made him smirk.

While swearing to himself that he wasn't looking at her legs.

"Natalie, I _don't _have a cow." He explained slowly.

Her stare didn't falter for a second.

"But if ye _had_ one-"

"But I _don't._ And neither do you, for that matter."

Silence.

"Jack?"

Sigh.

"Yes Natalie?"

"Ye'd make a _lousy_ cow owner."

He snorted.

"At least _I_ _could_ own a cow. You couldn't."

"B'cause I'm drunk?"

"Yeah."

"Ah, I see."

Silence again. Natalie finally rolled onto her back.

Perhaps now she would finally attempt to sleep and he could depart her damned apartment without any guilt or remorse of having left the girl alone in such a state when she wasn't thinking- or saying- any coherent thing.

Perhaps now he could relax-

"I like the rest o' the islands too. It's a cool place in general. I don't like York though. I've heard that it's legal to kill a Scotsman in there with a bow an' an arrow." She pursed her lips, thinking about what she just said. "Or is it only legal if the Scot is the one carryin' the bow an' arrow...?"

Jack ran a hand through his snowy hair. It seemed that it would be a _long_ night.

"Tis a nice 'nough country though." She kept on with the assessing of different places and laws.

"...Because it isn't legal to kill Scots with bow and arrows?" He guessed with a smirk.

"_Aye_. I still prefer Scotland though, but I sorta like this place. It has its own weird customs I'm still tryin' to grasp though..."

He figured that even if the place wasn't so different, she would have suffered from some sort of culture shock at first. He didn't know she was still struggling with the adaptation though.

"Yeah?" He asked her. "Such as...?"

She bit her lip, deep in thought.

"Well..." She played with a strand of her black hair. "There's for example this thin' they do at New Year, when they're done with the countdown and they kiss someone-"Suddenly she widened her eyes and gasped.

Jack looked at her confused.

Natalie sat up- perhaps a little bit too fast given her state- and looked at him with frightened eyes.

"I didnee kiss anyone for New Year, Jack!"

She sounded truly horrified.

He furrowed his brow.

"So...?"

"What d'ye mean _'so'_? So I didnee do it! What if I get shunned b'cause o' that?! What if I get _deported_ b'cause I _disrespected_ an important rite of the culture?!"

The Guardian of Fun actually laughed out loud at that- she just sounded so scared!

"Nat, I don't think they'll deport you for-"

"The horror, Jack, the horror!" She kept on. He rolled his eyes. "I'd return to Scotland in shame! I'd put in shame my family name, my uncle's family name!"

"Woah, Nat, calm down right there, 'kay?" He pushed her gently backwards trying to make her lean back on the bed. He didn't completely succeed, but something was something. "I really don't think they'll deport you for not having kissed anyone on New Year..."

She stared at him; they were perhaps a bit too close.

"Ye don't...?"

He smiled a reassuring smile at her.

"Nah, they won't deport you for that..."

Her eyes lit up.

"...However" He continued. "They _could _probably force you to drop your accent and shave your head."

...

_Le_ gasp.

"The horror, Jack, THE HORROR!" She shrieked and flailed around, causing him to fall on top of her.

Not that she actually noticed.

Natalie was too busy panicking.

He _did_ notice, and tried to hurriedly get off the girl. _Tried_ being the key word. Natalie simply kept on moving around and screaming bloody murder until they were both trapped in a tangle of sheets and limbs.

Then, somehow, she was straddling him with those huge black eyes right in front of his face, blabbering incoherently about how she liked her accent too much and to please don't tell the police.

"-Though perhaps I should return back to Scotland by myself and avoid any shame, that's probably the best choice-"

"NATALIE!"

She stopped talking.

"Get. Off. Please." He was _really _trying not to think about how high the hem of her dress might be now, or the way she was clutching at the front of her hoodie.

Really, this girl had no sense of decorum whatsoever.

But at least she had enough sense to get off him. And she sat back, her back straight, her hands dutifully on her lap. He managed to sit up too, without the weight of the girl on top of him.

"I _really_ don't think that you should go back to Scotland just because of that. It seems a bit _drastic_ to me."

"But... But... Oh. I might have another option though..."

Jack sighed, preparing himself to listen another ridiculous preposition.

"Yeah? What is it?" He asked.

She smiled brightly.

"Well, technically it's still New Year, aye?"

She didn't actually wait for his confirmation, no. That would have been too much to ask.

She actually leaned forward and kissed him fully on the lips.

She _kissed_ him.

He had never been kissed before- not that he actually _remembered _anyway. His mind went blank.

Before he had even time to think of something to do, she had already pulled away and was looking at him with a goofy smile.

"There." She explained. "I won't be deported now. Ye don't know how to kiss though..."

Jack exhaled a shaky breath and ignored the blush he was sure had creeped onto his cheeks.

"Well, you taste of alcohol." He retorted.

Yeah. Really smart.

Natalie _giggled_ at him.

She _giggled_ after she had _kissed_ him.

It was so... bizarre...

"That's b'cause I'm drunk, ye silly..."

She _giggled _after she had _kissed _him. _And _she had called him _silly. Again._

"You _do_ realise you're going to regret that, like, a lot, once you're sober again?"

"Won't be the first time s'methin' like that happens t'me." She still smiled. "I was serious on the fact that ye don't know how to kiss though. Have ye _ever_ kissed a girl b'fore?"

He committed the great mistake of stuttering a half-answer.

Natalie's eyes widened like saucers.

"Ye _haven't_! Oh God, that's so _wrong!"_

Now he was sure he was blushing harder. At least it was dark and she was drunk and didn't notice that.

"Well, I'm a freaking winter spirit, remember? It's sort of hard to get a date when people _can't see you_."

Too bad she was too drunk to notice the sarcasm that rolled deliciously from his tongue. She would have admired it.

"It's still _wrong_, Jack! Ye _should _know how to kiss!"

He groaned. This was getting both incredibly awkward and annoying.

"Oh, I know!" She exclaimed. "I could teach ye!"

"...What? What do you _exactly_ mean...?"

"Ye could _practice_ with me. It's not as if ye have another girl yer age who can see ye."

"_Practice?"_

"Aye."

...

He jumped off the bed as fast as he could. He needed to put some distance between him and the girl.

"You are _extremely_ drunk, Natalie."

* * *

"Jack?"

He swallowed a strain of profanities. She had finally gotten inside the covers and was starting to fall asleep. He had taken that moment to open her window and silently float away- he _needed_ to relax after that major stress- but she had called his name once again before he could escape.

"What is it now?"

"Don't go..." She muttered, looking uneasily.

He narrowed his eyes. Honestly, even if right now she looked incredibly innocent and girl-like, all tucked into her bed and blinking at him sleepily... He didn't trust her.

She was _far _too dangerous.

"You need to sleep, Natalie."

Really, he needed to be awarded some patience prize for this. And his weight on solid gold. And a crown. Jack liked crowns.

"So?" She slurred. "Stay anyway..."

"_Why_?"

She always said she hated his guts. Always screamed at him that he was annoying. She had thrown him several items- including a flying elf- and had shut the door on his face.

And now she was asking him to stay with her?

Infuriating drunken Scot girl.

Natalie shifted a bit under his gaze, as if she couldn't decide to tell him or not. After a while, she looked at him, and there was simply _something_ on her eyes that eased his temper.

"B'cause I'm tired of bein' alone..."

It could have been his imagination. It could have been the wind simply whispering nonsense. It could have been many things.

But for the first time since he had first met her, she actually looked vulnerable and... _Lonely?_

He gritted his teeth. When the sun would come up it would not be pretty.

"Move over." He gently told her, and slid under the covers next to her.

Natalie giggled and cuddled against him.

"Ye're a good guy, Jack." She muttered sleepily. "I sort of like you."

He sighed. He was _really_ going to regret this.

"Well yeah try to remember that when you're screaming at me tomorrow." He muttered back.

* * *

**This is probably the most ridiculous chapter I ever wrote. Cows. Cows and Scots with bows and arrows. **

**I added the fluff at the end, I hope it's not too cheesy- Remember that this is still somewhat a romance story. Or something.**


	18. Looking ahead and Little lies

**So I decided to join tumblr ( mscoldcoffee ). Follow me for more ridiculousness, tales of my life nobody really cares for, and some drawing or two I might upload there about my stories and stuff.**

**You can ask me- or my characters- things too! ...And if anyone gets the reference of my tumblr's title, then I love you.**

**EDIT: Had to re-upload the chapter due to some technical issues.**

* * *

She groaned.

She was feeling slightly cold.

She had a migraine.

She groaned- _again._

"Oh, good morning Natalie. Nice to see you are awake. Now let go off me, you're drooling on my hoodie."

Woah, wait there. Too many words. She tried to think about whose voice was that- she _knew _she had heard it somewhere before!- but her head simple hurt too much to be able to focus.

The girl opened an eye, slowly- _painfully slow-_ and found herself lost in a sea of the colour blue. Which was weird.

But it was too early for anything to be considered properly weird, anyway.

She opened the other eye. She blinked.

"Yeah, sure, take your time. It's not as I'm really uncomfortable with this or something."

There was that voice again!

She ran a quick assess of her situation. Cold. Head hurt. Unknown voice near her. Comfortable. Sleepy.

Was it really worth it to finally wake up and start the day...?

...Probably not.

She focused her vision- still somewhat blurry- on the immediate blue in front of her. It was a nice shade of blue too. She raised her head to look at her surroundings.

She froze.

Jack looked at the girl as she frantically looked under the sheets, apparently looking for _something_. She seemed to find it, because she sighed and collapsed on the bed again, face flat against the mattress.

Silence.

Awkward silence.

He decided to break it.

"What was that just now?" He asked her.

Natalie groaned- _yet again_.

"Nothin'. Just makin' sure I was still dressed. I am, which is good. Means I didnee do nothin' too stupid last night..." Her voice was muffled. "...Oh, and get off my bed. _Now._"

_He_ groaned.

"Just for you to know, _you_ were the one who asked me to stay, Nat."

"I don't care."

"_Sheesh_, I had forgotten how cranky you were in the mornings..." He muttered, more to himself than to her.

Natalie raised her head and looked at him dead in the eye. Her hair was messy and tangled, creating a sort of distorted black halo around her pale face.

"_Off!"_ She barked at him.

"_Fine"_

Jack opted to float around on his back, watching the girl cautiously. She simply laid there on her bed, eyes closed, one palm pressed against her forehead.

Well...

He certainly had expected a ton more of drama and screaming and profanities. So he voiced his thoughts.

"You seem strangely calm." He commented casually.

She huffed.

"That's b'cause my head's killin' me. Can't scream at ye... _yet. _I s'ppose ye've never been hungover b'fore, aye?"

"Well... no."

"_Lucky_"

He chuckled despite himself. She shot him a dirty look. Then she smiled suddenly, hit by some heavenly enlightenment.

"Jack. Ye're cold!"

He narrowed his eyes.

"...Yeah... I think we had already a conversation regarding my coldness, didn't we?"

She rolled her eyes.

"Come here" Natalie commanded while she patted a spot at the edge of her bed.

He descended to the floor, cautiously, but stood away from her bed.

"_Why?"_ He questioned her. "Are you going to hit me with something?"

"Oh, don't be such a-! _No,_ I'm not goin' to hit ye... Just sit here, aye?"

He did, and Natalie finally decided to open her eyes. She stared at him for a long while, before grabbing one of his hands in her own. She inspected it closely, and whistled between her teeth.

"Huh, who would have thought. Ye have good hands." She muttered.

He opened his mouth. Then he closed it. Jack finally opened it again.

"What's _that_ supposed to mean? Are you an expert on hands or something?"

Natalie rolled her eyes. Okay, so he was being apparently really stupid for some unknown reason that was entirely obvious to her. Nothing too unusual there.

The girl ran her fingertips softly against his palm, murmuring some nothings he didn't quite caught. When she was done with her inspection, she decided that he deserved to be looked at again and addressed as a living being and not just a hand.

"I'm a musician. I use my hands for a livin', Jack. I know about hands. Yer are _good_."

Duh.

"Umm... thanks, I guess?"

"Ye _should _be thankin' me; it's a great compliment that a musician tells ye that yer hands are good."

He snorted.

"Well miss musician, are _your _hands good?" He countered.

Natalie huffed indignantly. Just about as indignantly as only a cat can huff. She supposed she picked that up from hanging with Lissie so much.

...Who would not appreciate being actually called "Lissie", actually. But that's not actually the point, is it?

The girl showed Jack her left hand- with her right she was still holding his- and he carefully observed it. Well... He knew Natalie was pretty, she had long legs, a slim figure, her face- when she wasn't scowling- was actually really elegant. Her nose was straight, her lips plump, Hell, he was sure the girl could look over her shoulder with a haughty look and a crown on her head and she would most definitely pass as a believable queen. All of that when properly dressed and with the correct make-up... And with_out _a frown.

Her hands, on the other side... They were far from elegant. Her palms were rough; she had calluses at the tip of her fingers, and blisters where the calluses had not formed yet. She didn't wear any ring on any finger.

He looked at the girl, she was smirking.

"Ye know what my hands say 'bout me, Jackaline?"

"That you're a musician?" He guessed.

Her smirk grew even bigger.

"And that I'm fuckin' _good_ at what I do."

He chuckled. She wasn't particularly humble, but he wouldn't expect humility from her. Actually, he wouldn't expect many things from her- good manners, a polite discussion regarding the weather, concern or will to change the world and make it a better place...-; but that, somehow, made Natalie more _her. _

And that was oddly amusing and entertaining.

Hand studying aside, the fact was that she was still holding his hand. And she noted so, and therefore chose to do something else with his hand. Such as, put it on her forehead.

She smiled, broad and bright, and a sigh escaped her lips.

Jack looked at the girl strangely, what was it with her and her oddness?

"What are you doing _now_?"

"Isn't it obvious, Snowflake? I'm usin' ye as an ice bag. I don't know why I didnee think of this sooner... ye're perfect for my migraine."

"Oh, you just lowered my status to a medical supply?" He scoffed. "Nice to know you like me _that _much."

"Well, it's either as medical supply or as a fridge. B'cause, ye know, I'm pretty sure I can give ye like a frozen yoghurt or somethin' to hold and it'd be incredibly cold by the time I retrieve it."

"...I think I prefer being a medical supply than a fridge."

"Wise choice."

She sighed again. Her migraine was reducing considerably, which meant that she could actually start to think straight again.

"...There's a thing that I'm actually curious about." Jack mused. "You are supposed to be a musician, and so are your friends... Then why can't any of you _sing_?"

Natalie shot him a glare. "And ye can do it better than me or my-"She blinked slowly.

Migraine receding meant that she could think, and the ability to think meant that her memories were slowly starting to come back. She closed her eyes and furrowed her brow.

"... I walked through the streets o' Burgess singin' Les Mis with Matt and Joey, didnee I?"

"Really loud and out off key." He grinned.

"And then I had a discussion with ye regardin' weird Scottish laws and _cows_." She moaned.

"I still think Shaniqua it's a silly name for a cow..." He was actually enjoying this. Perhaps a tad more than what he should have.

"And- _Oh God _... I _kissed _ye, didnee I?" She was really mortified now.

"Yeah... you were afraid you'd be _deported_ if not..."

Perhaps she should take that as a warning sign to re-evaluate her life. Kissing Jack Frost, spirit of winter and Guardian of Fun could be considered as a very much relevant point to stop ruining her life in different levels. Perhaps that had been her punishment from some entity or force or whatever ruled the universe- the karma, God, Buddha- for the mishaps she had done. Perhaps she should try to become a better person, recycle, learn another language, volunteer as something- _no, not a tribute- _smile more, or even stop drinking illegally.

She knew she wouldn't change. Though it was a nice thought to consider.

Natalie opened her eyes and peeked at him.

"And _I did_ ask ye to stay with me."

"You did."

She sighed.

"Fine. I do strange things when I'm drunk. I've done worse things anyway. Now if ye ever tell anybody about anythin' ye saw or heard, I swear on my mother's name that I'll make ye regret it every miserable second of yer existence..."

Jack looked at the girl, and smirked.

"Will you, now? Oh, I'm _really_ afraid..." He mocked her.

"Jack Frost, I'm _warnin' _ye-"

"Look how scared I am."

"Jack!" She hissed and pressed his hand harder against her forehead. "Stupid headache, I can't even properly scream at ye..."

"Aw, that _sucks, _doesn't it?" Yes, he was enjoying it _really much._

* * *

Natalie believed in doing lists.

Not that she usually accomplished anything in her lists, but she believed in doing lists nevertheless.

She finished packing her clothes and instruments. She made a few calls to her college, and discovered that there existed the option of an on-line program that avoided her from failing her classes out of absences.

Huh. That was probably Matthew's secret.

Now she hoped North had good internet connection on the Pole.

She called Matthew and Joel and told them she was going to be away for a few months probably- _"I need to do stuff back in Scotland... Family business" "Do you really _have _to-?" "Aye, Joe, I do _have _to go." "But- but... Isn't your birthday soon?" "It's in February." "Yeah, that's what I said. Will you be back for then?" "...I don't know." "Naaaatalie..." "_Fine. _I'll try to be back for then, ye stupid buffoon."_- and even though she knew it was a lie, she couldn't actually tell them that she was actually going to the North Pole, because some kid's legends requested her to be safe and within sight because there was the slim chance that the Bogeyman was planning something generally evil or whatnot. Because she was friends with a shiny over-sized cat who was the Bogeyman's natural enemy.

No, that would be too troublesome to explain. So she lied easily and hoped that she was able to settle all her pending business with the immortal folk _before_ her birthday, on February 9th, since she was turning nineteen and wanted to celebrate it somehow.

She also called Mrs. Bennett to tell her the exact same thing and had a small chat with Jamie who wouldn't stop whining and complaining so she actually told the kid the truth- _"Oh, I see... Okay... so... Why do you sound so tired, Natalie?" "Oh, it's nothin', my head hurts." "Why?" "B'cause I drank too much- a thing ye shouldn't do. Ever." "...You knew that you were going to have a headache if you drank too much?" "Aye." "...Then why did you do it anyway?" "...B'cause I'm stupid, Jamie. I can't find any other reason." "...Grown-ups are weird."_

Finally, she also called Mrs. Callahan and told her that she was going to do a trip. The older lady, warm and polite as usual, offered her to pay the rent when she came back.

Only God knew the reason why the woman appreciated Natalie so much.

The girl stood in her living room, a couple of suitcases filled with clothes and books and some other things that she wasn't sure whether to take with her or leave in here- she decided to take the things-; violin case on her hand, the snow globe North had gave her in the other.

She shook the little thing and _threw it on the ground_.

She sighed. At least there wasn't a sack this time.


	19. Missions and mothers

**I've uploaded some other doodles to my tumblr account ( mscoldcoffee ) just go to my page and search the tag **_**disenchanted lullaby.**_

**Also, I'm taking requests if you'd like to see what any particular of my characters looks like, just go ask me there (click on the **_**yeah, what is it?**_** ).**

* * *

Natalie loved breaking the rules. She simply lived for pushing the limit more and more every time, she sneered at authority figures. If she was at a museum and there was a sign of _do not touch_, she'd simply craved to touch the item.

It was something stronger than her own will; it was perhaps even something instinctual. If she was told "no", she'd want to do it even more than before.

That general rule of her behaviour applied to most things in her life, she had been always attracted for the hidden and forbidden- what other way could she have been after spending years and years in company of hidden and forbidden creatures?-; she was of a rebellious nature.

Natalie Nightingale loved to go against things simply because she liked to go against things- and ideas and plans and philosophical thoughts...-. She liked to complain too.

In spirit of her daring attitude and rebel side was that it occurred to her a wild thought. It wasn't that wild actually, it was more of a pending idea she had never took care of.

That was why she was kneeling under North's desk at his private study in the middle of the night, clad only in some boxer shorts with tiny clovers- she could swear those things actually belonged to Joel- and a _too big_ white button up shirt- _that_ she had consciously stolen from Matthew. He never wore white anyway...- while muttering some nonsense with a thick accent.

She was completely sure that was how ninjas- or spies- felt during their dangerous and adrenaline-filled missions.

It was simply the darkness and silence and her, her nerves on edge, every little sound was like an alarm that made her hold her breath and stay as still as a statue just in case she was discovered. So far so good, no one had actually spotted the Scot trespassing in the middle of the night searching for some hidden secret... She was starting to get frustrated though, since the object of her marvellous quest evaded her-

"Watcha doing Nat?"

She squealed in surprised and jumped, hitting her head against the desk rather harshly. The girl didn't even have to turn around to know whose voice was it.

_Bloody bastard who couldn't stick to his own business. _

She grumped and rose from the floor, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Nothin'. What are _ye_ doin' here, _Jack?_ Ye're not s'pposed to be in North's workshop when he's not 'round t'see ye don't cause any havoc. How did ye got past the yetis?"

He snorted and mirrored her position.

"Yeah like _you're_ one to talk, Natalie. You like, are a magnet for chaos. And I don't think you're supposed to be in North's _private _study in the middle of the night."

She bit her lower lip and assessed her options. She finally sighed and ran a hand through her- already messed up- short hair.

"_Fine._ If ye don't tell I was here, I won't tell ye were here. Agree?"

"Nah."

"..._What?_"

He smirked and leaned against his staff.

"First you have to tell me what you were doing under North's desk."

She scoffed at him.

"Ye're insufferable, ye know?"

"Aw, nice to know you care!"

She rolled her eyes and resumed her position on the floor, still looking.

"Don't raise yer voice, Jack! Last thing we want are the yetis or elves, or worse, _North_, findin' out we're here!" She whispered at him over her shoulder. "And for yer information, I'm lookin' for vodka. Give me a hand, will ye?"

He blinked. Then he kneeled next to her.

"_Why_ are you looking for vodka?" He asked.

She looked at him as if he was stupid and was asking a very obvious thing.

"North's a _Russian_. I'm sure he's got to have vodka _somewhere_. Duh. I just want to confirm it."

"How can you be so-?"

"I just know it!" She hissed. "Now are ye goin' to help me or what?"

He shrugged. "Sure."

"Good. B'cause I've looked ev'rywhere and _nothin'_. I've found so far a pair of hipster glasses, two bags of mustard grains, a copy of The Avengers movie, a jar full of Indian Rupees, a vinyl of The Beatles, and the keys to a Lamborghini I want to find so hard now- I imagine the car is yellow-; But I haven't found any vodka."

"...But you _did_ find all of those things..."

"Aye."

"_How_ do you keep on finding that weird stuff?!"

She shrugged rather awkwardly, given the fact that she was still on all fours.

"I dunno. I have a knack for findin' things I s'ppose." It was her response.

He face-palmed.

"You're the weirdest girl I've ever known." He confessed.

"Aye, aye, whatever, don't speak so loud." She hissed.

"We're freaking _crawling under North's desk! _Looking for _vodka!"_ He hissed back.

"Stop talkin' so loud!"

"Hey, you're talking loud too!"

"Why must ye insist on bein' so troublesome?!"

"Me troublesome?! _You're_ the one that can't spend a whole afternoon without doing things like teaching _elves _how to play _poker_, and you're actually looking for some hidden vodka supply North may or may not have!"

"At least I stick to my own b'siness!"

"_Excuse me_ for keeping an eye on you when you're drunk so you don't trip over your own feet and break your neck!"

"Nobody asked yer help!"

"_You _did! And _you_ kissed _me!"_

"I was _drunk!"_

"You still did it!"

"Oh aye sure just put the blame on-" She stopped talking and furrowed her brow. "Jack... did ye hear somethin'?"

"Huh?" Something like wha-"

The desk was lifted from over their heads. Both looked up and discovered an enormous, hairy yeti looking at them with a disapproving stare.

"Oh... hey Phil..." Jack muttered awkwardly.

Natalie simply buried her face on her palms.

The furry creature grumbled _something _in his language and put the desk aside. Then he grabbed both teens and, one with each hand, and slung them over his shoulders, stomping away from the study.

Natalie shot the winter sprite a dirty look.

"I'm blamin' ye for this one."

"You _were _screaming too, you know..."

"S'metimes I wonder if yer sole purpose of existence is to annoy me..." She muttered.

"I still can't understand why you can't spend more than ten minutes without screaming at me."

"Don't ye think that might be _yer_ problem?"

"Yeah right." He scoffed. "Because _I'm _the moody Scottish who-"

Phil shook them both and grunted something in his language. Whatever he actually said, both Jack and Natalie took as a _'shut up!'_, and complied.

...You simply _don't _disagree with an angry yeti.

Phil stomped through the workshop angrily, and then stomped up some impossibly long stairs that took no-where except for only _one _room. He stopped stomping to throw both teens unceremoniously inside the room, closed the door- and locked it- with a _'click'_ and stomped away.

Natalie raised her head from the tangle of sheets and pillows she had landed into. She looked at Jack; he was trying to disentangle himself from her mess of clothing strewn on a pile on the floor. After he succeeded- and threw a pair of her shoes across the room- he sat at the edge of her bed.

"Well I think Phil got angry." He commented.

"_And_ he locked both o' us in my room..." Natalie added.

They sighed at the same time, and then snorted when they realised what they had just did.

Jack finally took in Natalie's appearance.

"...Why are you wearing guy's clothes?"

She rolled up her too long sleeves and shrugged.

"I like stealin' my friends' clothes s'metimes."

"...You're serious."

"Course I am. I'd watch out if I were ye, I 'ave an eye on yer hoodie."

The image of Natalie attacking him, stealing his hoodie, and running off into the shadows suddenly assaulted his mind. He would have laughed... but it was an entirely possible happening.

He was going to have to be careful.

"Wait... You just said you steal your friends' clothes sometimes..." He grinned cockily. "Does that mean we're _friends _now?"

She blinked.

Then she opened her mouth.

Then she closed it.

Then she groaned.

"I hate ye, Jack."

* * *

The meeting had extended a little bit more than usual, and it was dark already. All of the Guardians were standing up from their seats and bidding each other goodbye when they heard a frustrated cry, followed by a series of loud miss-matching piano keys being hit again and again and again...

They shared a knowing look.

_Natalie._

North sighed and took the lead.

Soon enough they entered some sort of grand study-like room, with a fireplace, a huge bookcase, and there, in the middle of the room, Natalie's mighty piano.

...Said girl was sitting there, in front of the piano, hitting her head against the keys again and again while muttering under her breath. She was surrounded by a huge amount of music sheets- some ripped in half; some still unharmed, and most blank and waited to be filled with notes- and there was a pen on the floor near her.

Also, she was sitting there in a t-shirt and her underwear. Her jeans were lying on the floor with the papers.

Natalie stopped hitting her head against the piano and let out a war-cry, completely ignoring the others in the room.

They shared another look.

"Natalie?" North started. "Vhat are you doing?"

The musician looked at them and smiled a somewhat too-wide, too-dangerous grin.

"Why, I'm doin' my impression of Xena: Warrior Princess!" She threw her hands up in the air.

"...Why are ya without pants, sheila?" Bunnymund muttered amused.

She looked down at her legs strangely, almost as if she had forgotten she took them off.

Jack's eyes slightly widened when Bunny's words got into his brain. He looked at Natalie. Then he looked down, looking the floor as if it was the most interesting thing of the world.

He groaned. It just wasn't _fair_. Even if he was more than three hundred years old, technically, he was still in his late teens. Which meant, well, male late teen hormones. And Natalie was a girl his age- _technically_- and he couldn't deny that she _was _pretty- if you forgot the attitude for a minute-; so why, _why _did the girl insisted on giving a damn on decorum all the time and showing that much skin as if it was nothing?

Perhaps to her she was.

But not to him.

Alone. For over three centuries. First girl his age who could look at him. Not that Jack hadn't looked at girls before, but if he looked at Natalie, he knew _she knew _he was looking at her and-

Ah. Just too damn complicated.

The other ones had nothing to be mortified about, of course; Tooth was a girl anyway, and the rest of the Guardians were simply too old to look at the violinist in other way than a young impolite weird somewhat amusing girl. Jack knew Sandy looked at her like she was one of the kids he protected- even if she was certainly no kid. The Guardian of Dreams had lived far too long to avoid looking at mostly everyone as incredibly younger beings. North had that sort of paternal instinct, he always acted as an over-enthusiastic father, or, at best, as that weird funny uncle who tells great stories. And bunny... Well, Jack didn't know how old would Bunnymund be in human standards. Perhaps he should ask him or something. Not the point.

In any case, he was sure he was the only one uncomfortable with the bareness of the girl.

"Ah." Natalie said after a while of just staring at her skin. "Aye, I see what ye mean. Pants happen to constrict my creative genius." She calmly explained.

They shared yet another look- except for Jack, who was still staring at the floor.

Natalie let her face fall against the keys again with a loud sound.

"Are you okay?" Tooth tentatively asked.

"Aye. I'm just stuck. Can't compose anythin' half-decent an' I'm drownin'."

Toothiana flew up to the girl and grabbed her face in her delicate hands, forcing her to look up into her eyes.

"My! You're too pale, Natalie!"

"Tooth. I'm _Scottish_. Fog and rain. Of course I'm fuckin' _pale."_

The Guardian of Memories ignored her and kept on scrutinising her.

"And you have dark circles under your eyes! When was the last time you had any sleep?!"

"Tooth-"

"Natalie, you look like you'll fall sick in any minute!"

"But I'm-"

"Ain't you too skinny too? You should eat more! I think I could make you some sugar-free things for you to eat!"

"I said I'm-"

"You really need to stop spending these all-nighters in the dark by yourself!"

"Well if ye would just-"

"And are you insane?! We're at the _Pole_, Natalie! You should wear more clothes, you should wear _pants_!"

"My creative-"

"Oh my God, did you just shivered?! I knew it! I knew you were about to catch a cold! What if you get really sick now?! What if you start with a really high fever?! What if you-?!"

"_Sheesh! _Quit it, mom! I said I was just _fine!"_

Tooth let go of her face and widened her eyes.

Natalie realised what she had just said. She covered her mouth and lowered her head.

"I... I'm goin' to my room now..." She stood up and walked past the rest- without bothering to pick up any of her things-, unable to look up at them. She was embarrassed.

Perhaps she really needed some sleep.

* * *

There was a knock on her door.

"Go away." She groaned.

The door opened anyway. She mentally slapped herself for not having locked it. She felt the bed give in a little bit- just a bit- and a hand softly took the sheets from her face.

She was staring into huge, gorgeous amethyst eyes. Natalie closed her eyes again, mortified.

"Are you okay?" Toothiana asked the girl.

The violinist bit her lip.

"In case ye haven't noticed, I've got some issues. I'm sorry for callin' ye-"

"Oh, no, you don't have to be sorry!" Tooth brightly smiled at her.

Natalie opened her eyes and stared at the female in front of her. She considered herself pretty, by human standards, or at least sexually appealing. Tooth... Toothiana was simply beautiful.

She was like a work of art in motion, the way the sunlight reflected on her feathers making them shine in a cacophony of colours, her shiny smile, her elegant wings, her delicate hands... And those eyes. Those breath-taking eyes.

Natalie felt a pang of envy.

The Gurdian of Memories' smile faltered.

"Your mother died when you were really young, right?"

"_Aye..."_

She nodded. "It must have been hard for a girl growing up without anyone to call mom..."

Natalie sighed.

"I like to think I've managed s'mehow. I mean, my father died too, but at least I had Peregrin and my uncle. Not exactly fatherly figures, but Peregrin was s'methin' akin to that."

Tooth giggled.

"Oh, I know. You were a little girl with baby teeth once; I know some of your fondest memories are with him. Your happy memories are very few though..." She trailed off.

"I know." Natalie grimaced. "No need t'remember me, really." She sat up on the bed. "And... thank ye..."

"What for?"

"For, ye know. Worryin' 'bout me and stuff."

Tooth blinked. Then she lunged forward and trapped the girl in a bear-hug. Natalie froze for a second before returned the hug- but with less strength.

"You don't have to thank me for that, silly!" Tooth chuckled into her hair. "And just for you to know... I've got no problem at all if you ever call me 'mom' again..."

Natalie blinked, trying to get rid of the wetness of her eyes. She wasn't crying. She _so wasn't crying_. It was just that Tooth's feathers bothered her eyes. Nothing more.

She wasn't crying.

...Except she _was._

It was a sensitive topic for her. She never allowed herself to mourn about it. Dwell in self pity? Sure. Scream endlessly about her misery? Damn right.

But she never got to actually sit down and cry about this particular subject. She simply tough it out and stood up again. She enveloped herself in a thick blanket of sarcasm and bad manners. She never told anyone, but truth be told, Tooth was right; it _was_ hard growing up without someone who she could call mother.

Without someone who would buy her frilly pink dresses she'd get to hate later on. Someone who'd comb and braid her hair with ribbons. Someone who'd tell her what to do after her first heart-break. It had been hard.

She had managed, somehow. But it was still a sore wound; not quite closed, still stinging.

"Tooth? D'ye really need to go out t'night? I... I don't feel like bein' alone..." Natalie sniffled.

Damn emotions. She wasn't supposed to break down and cry at a merely show of affection.

...Yeah, so it had been a simple thing that had touched her heart and all that, but still! She was going to have to adjust some things with her emotional intelligence.

Tooth ran a hand through the girl's black hair.

"I suppose I can send my fairies for tonight..."

* * *

**When I think of Tooth, I think of some overly affectionate workaholic woman with a really strong motherly instinct to take care of everyone around her.**

**I want to make Natalie interact more with Sandy and Bunny now. I know I'm going to have a lot of fun with Bunny.**


	20. Hugs and haggle

**The only thing remotely Scottish I own are my pyjama bottoms. Seriously, each and every one of my pyjama bottoms has a tartan pattern. I have with red, with green, with blue...**

**And remember to follow me on Tumblr (**_** mscoldcoffee )**_** for updates about interesting stuff that interest me and stuff and drawings about my stories. LittleRedRiddingWolf already asked something about Natalie there (that involves pink tutus), what are you bag of baboons waiting for to follow her example? (I love you guys. I do. Remember that.).**

* * *

This time she was on a train. She blinked, surprised, had she fallen asleep and forgotten where she was? Well, that sounded totally like her, anyway.

She noticed the train was stopping and got up. When she did, she also noticed she was wearing a knee-length dress and some ankle-height boots. She didn't remember throwing on those clothes- Hell; she didn't remember _owning _those clothes.

Natalie slapped a hand on her forehead.

_Duh._

It was a dream. _Of course_ it was a dream. She was a stupid girl and she recognised it. The violinist merged into the sea of people exiting the train and looked around her, waiting for something to happen. Or some_one_, because she saw a man standing tall amongst the crowd, looking with his golden eyes directly at her.

She smiled and waved at him.

"Finally ye decide to reappear, old chap! What's got ye so busy?" She brightly saluted.

The man rolled his eyes but smiled nevertheless.

"Oh, stuff." He said with a thick English accent. "You know my dear; I've been here and there and all over the place."

"Aye" Natalie snorted "I bet that bein' an antisocial spirit that doesn't actually care 'bout many things must be exhaustin'..."

He bent down- he was ridiculously tall, and his broad shoulders just added that tad of majesty to his image- to look at the girl in the eye.

"You have _no idea_ how exhausting it's to be me." He said with his mouth turned slightly upwards.

"Meh." She shrugged. "Might as well give me a heads up b'fore time's over..."

The tall man sighed.

"Yeah, about that..." He started to walk away and motioned the girl to follow him. "Let's walk, shall we?"

Natalie mentally cursed his stupidly long legs and sprinted after him, barely having to run from time to time to keep up with him.

The scenario suddenly- or perhaps not so suddenly- changed. It was the busy train station no more, but instead, a grassy valley with a few trees here and there. The sun was shining hard on Natalie's pale skin and she grumbled. She was used to rain and fog, not this ungodly sunshine. Sure, there was the occasional sunny day back there in Scotland, but she evidently preferred the shade than the skin-scorching sun rays.

Unless she was at the beach looking really good in a stylish bikini, designer sunglasses and a drink on her hand, looking all interesting and stuff.

...

She wasn't except from sinning of vanity on the occasional time.

Not that she particularly cared. Actually she didn't care about many things. Achieving world peace or ending with the hunger in the world, for example. She didn't care about living an exciting life, or about becoming the archetype of any virtue.

She _did_ care, however, about getting enough money to live another month without getting behind with her rent. She cared about _trying_ to finish her career. And for a bunch of other trivial things. Such as avoid getting herself killed due to her more-than-necessary amount of sarcasm and her weird connection to immortal beings.

_Damn Jack Frost._

She blinked. Then she shrugged. She supposed it was a habit to simply blame Jack for everything that went or could go wrong in her life.

The Englishman had sat down in the shade of a tree and waited for Natalie to sit next to her. She did. He was silent for some time before rubbing a hand on his face. He finally sighed again.

"I'm sorry, Natalie." He blurted out.

The girl furrowed her brow.

"What for?"

"You're still young. So young! You shouldn't be bound to deals with sprites of courage, you shouldn't have _accepted _it! _I_ lived a much longer life than you-"

She cut him mid-sentence by letting out completely impolite barks of laughter.

"Oh, please!" She waved a hand to avoid him from saying any further word. "Please, spare me! Ain't it a wee late for second thoughts, Peregrin? What's done it's done, aye?"

"Indeed it is, girl, but I'm still sorry." He looked visibly mortified.

"Don't be. _I _was the one who accepted the terms anyway. And ye never showed that much regret before... there's somethin' ye're not tellin' me?"

The golden lion searched into his golden coat- Natalie had always had a strange fascination with the coat, with its many pockets and fur-adorned hem, neckline, and sleeves- and took out a small sand clock. The girl peered at the object, seeing that there was a little amount of sand at the top, while a huge mountain on the lower part.

Time was literally slipping away.

"Ah..." She trailed off. "A year, perhaps?"

"Or two; or five. Or less than a month if something happens and rushes the things. And you're still so young..."

He looked tired, so tired... The girl swore she could see some grey hairs on his beard already.

"And how are _ye_ feelin'?" She asked her long-time friend.

"Me?" He snorted. "_Old. _Annoyed by all of this. As usual, you know me..."

"Aye, I s'ppose I do..." She smiled softly.

* * *

Natalie opened her eyes at the sound of scratching at her bedroom door. She exhaled some air through her mouth and opened her eyes. Her bed felt strangely empty, but she didn't know exactly why.

The scratching again, followed by a low whine.

"Quit it, Fang..." The girl muttered.

Raising a hand to rub her eyes she realised that she was holding a little something into her closed fist, and she opened it, revealing a penny.

A penny?

_Ah. Toothiana._

The fairy must have gotten away before she woke up- probably for the best, really, God knew how awful Natalie was in the mornings.

Natalie exhaled a shaky breath before standing up and opening the door to the wulver. Then the girl- ignoring the big canine that leapt onto her bed instantly- chewed her bottom lip and went through last night's events once more.

Okay, so she had had a moment of vulnerability. Damn. She hated those moments.

Moments like those made people feel like she was weak and subsequently they'd try to help her or start nurturing her or treat her like some damaged kid- she _was_ a bit damaged, though not exactly a kid anymore- or start sticking their noses into her life.

She did _not _want that.

Natalie just wanted peace; she just wanted people- and whatever immortal being she found along the way- to leave her alone.

Being an antisocial was something she _liked,_ after having closed up to herself and developing her never-ending grumpiness and general distaste towards any sort of harmony-disrupting element that entered her life, it always baffled her when people were _concerned_ about her.

People did _not_ like Natalie. Her talent? Sure, she expected to have a least a handful of half-decent work offers when she finished her career. Her looks? Damn right, she looked good, she knew it, and she took advantage of it when she could. Her character was the issue. And she thoroughly _enjoyed_ watching people get confused with it- _'how come a young pretty girl has such a foul mood? No wonder she has no friends...'_ She had plenty of other flaws too, she was painfully aware of it. Natalie wasn't particularly bright, she never knew when to hold her tongue, she couldn't run a block without almost-dying due to poor athletic abilities- and probably a side effect of having smoked so much before. The list could keep on going, of course...

The girl sighed; she was actually a really poor excuse for an oh-so-called antisocial. Perhaps she had been one before, at her difficult and rebellious stage of fifteen to seventeen years old. That was when she had her hair cut, mainly to go against the _'oh she's got such a pretty long hair!'_ she was tired of hearing. Then she maintained the style because it gave her a high-fashion air, and because it was easier to take care of.

But now... now she had Matthew and Joey, and Jean. She had Peregrin and North; Tooth and Bunny. She had Fang and Lapin. She could have civil conversations with both Pitch and Liss. _Hell, _she was sure that she was _one_ stupid stunt away- like performing an attempt of a mediocre spy mission to search for hidden vodka in North's private study and be discovered by a very grumpy yeti- of considering _Jack_ her friend.

Perhaps she already did, but decided to keep on the façade of that sweet, sweet and blissful denial.

The girl sat heavily on her bed, and scratched absent-mindedly Fang behind his ears. The wulver yapped happily, and Natalie snorted at him.

"Ye know, for a myth'logical huge anthropomorphic wolf-like creature who gets confused a lot with a werewolf, ye behave awfully like a lap dog."

Fang whined.

"Oh, don't be like that, ye mutt on steroids. Ye know what I meant."

He whined again. Natalie chuckled. She went through her deeper and innermost hidden thoughts again, and she carefully concluded _again- _that indeed, she had failed as an antisocial. And she _had_ broken down and sobbed into Tooth's- the _Tooth Fairy-_ arms because she missed her mother.

...Can you actually miss someone who you barely remember?

Natalie cringed. She ran a hand through her black hair.

Things were changing. _She _was changing. Whether for good or for bad... That was for time and previous deals to decide. And Lissie- Helloise had the awful tendency to be the one in the dark that secretly moved every string.

* * *

Natalie liked exploring. Even if she preferred quite the stable and ordinary lifestyle, she still liked exploring. She blamed it on her childhood frolicking in some Scottish forest with banshees and brownies. No matter how hard she tried to disregard things- and she _tried hard_- she always possessed an underlying layer of latent curiosity about the things that were unknown to her. She blamed that on her childhood too.

When given too much free time and nothing to do, the girl would simply take a walk and see what she could find around an unknown corner. She blamed all that on her childhood and on Peregrin, if that bloody shiny lion hadn't filled her with about every tale of knights and old wars and kings, then she perhaps would've been different.

...Though she was being admittedly unfair. The blame was on her parents too for reading her fairy-tales and most folklore there is to be known since she was three years old.

Point aside from whose blame was it that she was like she was, Natalie liked exploring. She was exploring some hidden side passage of North's workshop at the time, trying to see if she could find that yellow Lamborghini somewhere. She was too distracted thinking on how downright classy she'd look driving the car, so she did a _too sharp _turn and collided against something extremely furry and extremely tall.

She was ready to let go a series of curses and nagging Fang for following her around and making her trip- more than usual- when she felt a pair of big furry hands steady her shoulders, and a voice.

"Woah there sheila, ya goin' somewhere walking that fast?"

Natalie closed her mouth and bit on her tongue to avoid saying anything improper- for once. She looked up and her eyes found those emerald ones that belonger to E. Aster Bunnymund. He was touching her.

The Easter _Bunny _was touching her. Fur on skin. It was a little too personal.

She blinked owlishly at him, trying to think of something ridiculously clever and funny to say. She found nothing, so she said nothing. She just blinked at him once more.

"...Why ya looking so weird at me?" Bunnymund let go of her, and the girl felt like she was able to breathe again.

She wasn't able to stop looking at him, not even when he raised a thick eyebrow and looked quizzically at her.

"...Aye, so... I know I might look all calm and collected right now... But just for ye to know... I'm, I'm _squealin' _like a wee lassie on the inside..." She admitted.

The pooka chuckled and crossed his arms over his chest. This girl was so strangely unusual that it was even funny. Whenever he was around, he _could_ tell she followed him with her eyes, those huge black eyes filled with admiration, as if he was something akin to a god or something.

_He loved it. _

"Ya do have a really thing for bunnies, huh?" He asked her.

Natalie shrugged awkwardly.

"If ye mean that I think bunnies are the most perfect creatures in the whole fuckin' universe, then aye, I 'ave _a thin' _for them."

"Why?"

"_Why? _Have ye looked at yerself in the mirror lately?" She threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. "Yer almost _sublime_!"

Now he had to simply laugh at that. So he did. Between North's incessant teasing that Christmas was better than Easter- it _so _wasn't! - And Jack simply being a pain in the ass because he _enjoyed_ being so, it was a nice change of the pace to have someone who expressed such devotion and admiration towards him. Not that he was actually narcissistic or full of himself- no matter what Jack said-, but it was a very nice thing indeed to have someone like Natalie around every once in a while.

Hell, perhaps he should even invite the girl to the Warren some day, maybe.

"Ye, Sir Bunnymund" Natalie continued. Bunny snorted, he had a nobility title now? "Are the livin' image of ev'rythin' I b'lieve and stand for." She was serious.

She was actually serious.

He opened his mouth to say something, but Jack's voice interrupted.

"_There_ you are Bunny! Jeez I thought you said you were just going to stretch your legs a bit, but you've been gone for roughly an hour!" The boy appeared walking casually from behind him, his hands on the pocket of his hoodie. "Oh. Hey Nat." He acknowledged the girl.

She glared at him, probably annoyed that he had interrupted her moment with Bunnymund.

"It's not my fault that this bloody workshop is so damn big! I tell ya, it's hallway after hallway an' stair after stair!" The pooka complained.

Jack rolled his eyes.

"Behold, the mighty, _fluffy_, Easter _Kangaroo_ just got defeated by a _building_."

Natalie glared harder.

"Oh, shut up Snowflake, will ya?" Bunny retorted. "Anyway, let's get goin' already, I didn't notice I was gone for that long." He turned around and faced the girl once again. "Seems we'll have to talk later. See ya, sheila."

Natalie pouted. She actually pouted. And she ignoring Jack's snort due to her pouting.

"Aye, so... B'fore ye go to some stupidly borin' meetin' and whatnot..." She bit her lip. "Can I... _hug ye? _ Just once."

Bunnymund blinked. He liked to think of himself as tough and rough, he had a dry wit; he was the last of his kind, a fighter, a ranger- though an undeniably charming one. He did not simply run around demonstrating affection with _hugs _in a daily basis.

But those huge eyes were so...

He sighed and extended his arms. Just once couldn't harm _that_ much, right?

"C'mere sheila."

Natalie threw herself at the giant rabbit and buried her face deep into his fur, all the while giggling like some preteen schoolgirl.

Bunny heard Jack mutter something under his breath, and he shot the winter sprite a dirty look. He was probably just jealous or whatever. He certainly looked jealous or whatever. The pooka made a mental note to tease him about it later.

Natalie looked up at Bunnymund with a bright smile, like some kid in a candy store.

"I'm huggin' a giant bunny. Best. Day. Ever."

* * *

**THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LONGER BUT I WROTE RE-WROTE DIFFERENT SCENES WITH SANDY AND NONE OF THEM SATISFIED ME. If you have any idea, please feel free to message me. Please do it. **


	21. Resemblance and reverberance

**You guys, the other day I went to this bar with a couple of girlfriends to you know catch up about life in general since it was about three months since we had saw each other and I ordered a mojito. Halfway through the drink I realised what I was drinking and started giggling stupidly because I thought of Jack Frost.**

**That comment makes a lot of sense if you follow me on Tumblr ( **_**mscoldcoffee**_** ) /keep an eye on the disenchanted lullaby stuff I upload there, such as drawings, little trivia thingies, maybe even some sneak-peak of a following chapter...**

**And thank you- THANK YOU- all for your suggestions and ideas, I really appreciate all of them. Unfortunately, I can't fit all of them in the story.**

* * *

If you looked at Natalie Nightingale, you could see that she was a really pretty girl.

If you looked harder, you could see that her eyes were round and big, her skin was pale- "alabaster", a guy that had once attempted to hit on her with old-fashioned poetry had told her-; she had long legs, and black hair- the same shade of her eyes.

But if you _really _looked at her, if you took your time to observe her behaviour, if you invested endless minutes into watching her appearance, then it was very, _very_ probable that you noticed something odd with the girl.

Natalie had a certain feline resemblance.

It wasn't in the way she walked, or the grace and elegance she _clearly _lacked.

It _definitely _wasn't in her balance, and she _certainly _wasn't as flexible or agile as a cat.

But it was there... vague, like a figure made of smoke... but it _was _there. There was something entirely akin feline to her.

Maybe it was in her sharp features. Maybe it was in the way she looked when she sneered at someone- _Jack-_, or the little sound at the back of her throat she let escape when she was angered and or frustrated by something or someone- _again, Jack- _that sounded like a hiss; or maybe it was in the fact that she favoured high places above the ground.

Perhaps it was in the way she liked to cuddle up and take spontaneous naps- though she blamed that on her lack of sleep during the night- or in how she would _someone's_ company for a moment- _There's a certain pattern in here, isn't it?- _and suddenly burst into an anger tantrum and shoo him away.

_That _seemed really familiar to the way cats would allow to be petted and purr at you, and then they would simply bite your hand and act _offended_ for no particular reason.

Whatever it was, Natalie Nightingale had most certainly, definitely and undoubtedly a feline air about her.

Even if you couldn't actually pinpoint it, somehow, somewhere, at the very back of your brain just behind the empty boxes, you simply _knew _it.

She had been commented on her likeness to cats and the likes of so before.

She had replied it was probably some subconscious personality development slash weird quirk she had picked up after having spent so much time in the company of both Liss and Peregrin.

She had learnt how to roll her eyes from Helloise, after all.

_No one _makes a better disapproving face as a cat.

No one.

Sandy was the first to notice the likeness, with him being ever-observant of the world and creatures around him. Of course, he said nothing of it. Slowly, almost without even trying, the others noticed it too.

None of them commented anything to the other one.

It was like one of those publicly known secrets, those secrets that everybody knows but no one ever brings it up.

Bunnymund heard it first.

The slow melody, one nostalgic note tore from the strings after another one. A tune, a melody that built itself up from scratch; from the depths of silence.

His ears twitched at first, and he disregarded the sound as the howling of the wind.

Then it started to grow and he actually realised it was something more than just a stray breeze...

After all, the wind had never sounded so melancholic.

By the time he actually began to pay attention to it, it was loud enough for the others to hear it too. Toothiana blinked, confused. She roamed the room with her eyes, trying to find the source of the sound.

It seemed as if it was descending from Heaven itself.

"What's that?" She asked aloud.

"Natalie." Jack closed his eyes. "With her violin." A smile crept into his face.

He loved hearing her with her violin. It was like seeing the grumpy girl into another completely different light, as if she was baring her soul naked to whoever was listening to her music...

He blinked.

Okay, since when had he become so poetic, huh?

"Crikey" Bunny whistled in between his teeth. "Who knew that sheila was so good? I mean I knew she could play, but I never thought it would be so..." He trailed off.

"Beautiful?" Tooth offered.

The pooka nodded his head.

Jack crossed his arms over his chest. He felt a slight tugging on the hem of his hoodie, and as he looked down, he noticed Sandy was trying to gather his attention.

The short guy pointed upwards, and above his head a golden cloud of sand twirled and morphed into a violin. Small sand droplets- _tears?_ - Where falling from the instrument, and next to the little scene, a bright question mark.

"You think she sounds sad?" Jack asked.

Sandy shrugged and nodded his head.

"Vhell... zhere's an air of sadness in zhat melody..." North muttered thoughtfully.

"Ya think so?" Bunny's ears perked up a little. The tune had suddenly changed.

Now it was something a little bit more... peaceful. It was slow. Almost painfully so.

But there wasn't a single trace of sadness on it.

Each time the bow made the strings sing, time stopped a little bit. It was soft... like a breath stolen in a kiss, like a lullaby not yet sung. Soft like a warm breeze, soft like the sigh of a dreaming child...

And there was something oddly familiar in that melody to Jack.

He _knew _he hadn't heard it before. He _knew _that the times were Natalie would actually play an already existing song on her violin while she was alone could be counted with one hand. He _knew _the musician enjoyed of simply letting herself go and riding along the momentum of whatever she was feeling, of whatever she was seeing, of whatever she was remembering... and that's what created the beautiful pieces she composed in the spur of the moment.

He briefly wondered if she ever wrote down those little snippets of rhapsodies and not-quite-finished melodies. Probably not. Those fragments of art and sentiments were just for herself- and whoever was lucky enough to be within earshot.

In light of those little certainties he had come to know about the girl, no wonder it struck him as weird that he couldn't shake of the feeling of familiarity. Like a déjà vu, however that was actually pronounced. French people pronounced every word with a too-fancy twist, after all.

Jack was a creature with a great deal of curiosity into him. He wanted his questions answered- though that might have a relation with the fact that up to recent times, he had no idea of what his purpose to be alive- err... even if technically he was dead- was.

Those sorts of things leave you with a compulsion for naturally answering every doubt you have, mind you.

And he frowned because of it. And that probably drew the others' attention towards him.

"Jack?" Tooth asked. "What's wrong?"

He shrugged, the frown still claiming his expression.

"I don't know... I feel as if I know this tune already... But I just _know _I've never heard it before."

"Well mate I'd say ya finally lost it then. Too much _frost_ on your brain."

"_Lame pun_, Bunny." Jack rolled his eyes at the pooka. "But seriously, don't any of you get that feeling?"

"Well..." Tooth tapped one of her delicate fingers against her chin. "No. Not at all."

Sandy waved his hand silently in the air. He was ignored.

"Perhaps it sounds like another song vhou know?" North offered.

Sandy jumped up and down. He was ignored.

"I never heard anythin' like that." Bunnymund scratched behind his ear. "I'm pretty sure of that."

Sandy made a ridiculous effort to be seen. He was ignored.

"No guys, I'm serious." The winter sprite explained. "It's like... I don't know how to put it. But I know I _know _that song."

An elf was violently shaken, creating a sharp sound with its bell, and distracting everyone from their oh-so-deep discussion.

The elf was being shaken by a hand. The hand was connected to an arm. The arm belonged to the Guardian of Dreams.

Said Guardian had a scowl of frustration on his face.

Once he had- _finally-_ managed to get some attention, Sandy started to gesture wildly at some uncertain point above their heads, probably guessing the girl's location on the roof. Then he smiled a very goofy smile, and created with thin trails of golden sand an image above his head.

It was a tiny Natalie made of sand, sitting, with her eyes closed and a smile on her plump lips. She was playing the violin, and a small blizzard of snowflakes was falling around her.

"Yeah mate we already know the sheila is up there playing music. Have ya been spacing out the whole chat?"

Sandy face-palmed and shook his head. Sometimes they could be just so _dense._

The sand-picture changed again. Now there was a replica of her violin, the bow going left and right creating some soundless music. Instead of music notes that indicated the apparent existence of a song, there were tiny snowflakes.

"Vhat?"

Sandy rolled his eyes and tried to explain himself differently.

He made five thin lines of sand, with different music notes scattered on the pentagram. Then an equal sign. Then the violin again. Another equal sign. A huge snowflake. Another equal sign. Jack's grinning face.

"...What?"

Sometimes, just sometimes, Sandy actually wondered how come these people were his fellow Guardians. Sometimes.

But since he was basically being asked to spit the obvious in their faces, he literally spelled the words for them. He didn't like doing so. He liked to think that with his pictures it was more than enough to let himself be understood.

Then again... They _could _be dense.

"_She is getting inspired from snowflakes to make music."_

There. Big, gold, thin letters made of sand. _That _should be more than enough.

It took fifteen seconds or so for everyone to finish reading the sentence.

"Ah!" Toothiana smiled in realisation. "So that's why it sounds familiar to you, Jack! Because you _make snow!_"

"I suppose that's a good answer..." Jack ran a hand through his hair. "Can you really make music about snowflakes falling though? Isn't it like... soundless?"

"Apparently mate, Natalie can." Bunny blinked. "And she can manage to make something as bothersome as your snow sound nice."

Jack closed his eyes and listened... It did make him think of falling snowflakes. Light, soft, insanely white falling snowflakes...

And then, behind his closed lids, for the briefest moment he saw an image. Everything surrounded in the white- _his_ white- of freshly made snow, lazy, icy flakes falling from the sky and enveloping a blurry figure.

He recognised her, as blurry as it was. The slender legs, the short black hair... she was facing away from him, and the major difference with real-world Natalie was the lack of that thick dark aura of mere annoyance and general grumpiness.

He noticed she was wearing some sort of deep yellow- or was it golden? - Coat, with fur on the hem. It was entirely too big for her, but that wasn't surprising at all. It wouldn't have surprised him that the girl had _'borrowed' _the coat from someone. As if sensing him, the girl looked over her shoulder, barely sparing him a glance.

A laugh was carried by the wind.

She smirked and raised an eyebrow.

For the heartbeat of a moment, her face looked much too certain, much too dangerous, much too wild, and entirely too feline.

And then the music stopped and Jack forced his eyes open.

He looked around, and noticed the others- with the exception of Sandy- had fallen into some sort of reverie of the same kind, and appeared to be snapping out of it just now.

If they had seen anything like he had, nobody mentioned it.

Nobody actually said anything.

The Sandman looked at everyone, taking his time to _really look_. He was smiling softly. He too, said nothing.

A door opened. And then it was slammed shut.

Some stomping.

_Splush._

A muttered curse.

The young woman in question entered through the door, and she didn't look at all much too dangerous or wild, nor entirely too feline.

Natalie was, in fact, very much wet, and slightly shivering. Her short hair was matted to her face, and she was desperately trying to get the melting snow off her clothes and skin. Behind her was Fang, who look not-so-curiously very much like his mistress.

"Bloody hound! Takes ye to sneak up in me and make me fall from the roof! _From the roof_! Am I stressin' it 'nough?!"

Fang whined, looking down.

"Oh, don't ye look at me like that! Be stupidly happy my violin didnee break on the fall, or I'd have ye skinned already. I'd be wearin' yer fur like a trophy."

The wulver whined again.

Natalie stomped through the room and pointedly ignored the Guardians looking at her. She stopped right before she opened the door leading to one of the infinites hallways, as if she had forgotten something.

She turned around. She cleared her throat.

"Ah, hey Bunny. Didnee see ye there with all the snow in my eyes."

Bunnymund snorted and just nodded at her.

Natalie said nothing and scurried away.

"...Guys? Shouldn't we check on her? I mean, I think she just fell from the roof..."

"_You _check on her if you want, Tooth, but Natalie screams at me enough already as it is. I don't think I want to come closer to her when she just threatened her own wulver to skin it and wear its hide."

"...Maybe you're right, Jack."

* * *

**This works better as a chapter alone, I think. Tomorrow I'll upload the rest of it, which is already written. **


	22. Chapter 22

**I want a pair of leather pants.**

* * *

Her chest was heavy. As if it was being hard to breathe.

Her eyelids fluttered open.

Had she been dreaming before? Yes, of course she had.

But what about?

She... She couldn't remember.

That was a first.

Natalie _always _remembered her dreams. Why did she feel so... _wrong? _Well, besides the pain on her neck, since she had fallen asleep in the couch of North's sort-of-living room while laying there and rejoicing on doing absolutely nothing besides just laying there.

She wrung her hands together.

Her throat was sore, as if she hadn't had a drink in days.

What was going on?

By the soft light that entered through the windows, the girl assumed it was barely after sunrise. And everything was eerily quiet. Why weren't the yetis working already? Where were the elves and their tiny bells? North and his mirthful laughter?

"'bout time you woke up, lassie."

Natalie jolted upwards at the sound of the velvet-like voice that belonged to a velvet-like creature.

The girl blinked once. Twice. She rubbed her face. And she relaxed into the couch.

"Liss? _How_ did ye get into here?" Her voice was coarse.

The black feline rolled her startling green eyes.

"I have my ways; you should already know that..." She drawled, bored.

"...Is it yer doin' that everythin' is so quiet?" The violinist asked, wary.

She trusted Helloise. She trusted her _too much_. And she knew it, and she knew that it was a problem.

"Might be, might as well not..." Liss shrugged.

How did it come that everything she did could be only described as _'elegant'_?

Natalie rubbed her face once again.

"Am I still sleepin' or somethin'?"

"No kid, you are most certainly _not_."

"Am _not _a kid anymore, Lisse."

The cait-sidhe walked towards her, and with a dark paw she tilted the girl's head upwards, making her look directly into her eyes.

In times like these Natalie remembered how truly frightening Helloise could be if provoked. One single slip over here, a mishap over there...

_She wasn't queen for nothing._

"Maybe you're not a kid by your standards, but you are a young soul, while I am not. Alas, you will forever be nothing more than a child in my eyes."

The sleek creature scrutinised Natalie. Apparently, she found something she didn't quite like, because Helloise I, Queen of Cats and Cat-Sidhe's narrowed her green panes into slits and hissed a very much cat-like hiss.

"You are stalling. Doubting. You and him both. I don't like it when someone stalls, because then they stop. Tis makes it-"

"_Borin'_. I _know_. Ye don't like it when things stop goin' into motion, Liss, I _know. _It bores ye."

The black queen nodded and finally let got of her face. She turned around giving Natalie her back.

"It's extremely stupid when people stall. When they try to delay things. It makes the game a lot less amusing..." She mused.

"Just for clarifyin', when ye said _'him' _ye meant...?"

"Please. I'm not going to state the obvious. Though perhaps it's not that obvious...?" She looked again at the girl and smirked a cruel smirk. "Come to think of it, that statement could be used in at least three ways... Child, I've seen future back and forth many times. I've carefully studied the different possible outcomes. _Stop delaying it. _You and him- _they_- should stop delaying all of it."

"...Beg yer pardon?"

"Oh, do _not _beg, it's so pitiful..." She chuckled a velvet-like chuckle. "You. And him. And him. And him."

Natalie groaned.

"Ye're awfully cryptic at times. I mean s'metimes even more cryptic than Gandalf."

Lisse ignored the comparison.

Natalie ignored the pressure in her chest once again. She felt like she should know what Liss was talking about, but really, why did she always have the need to be so _confusing?_

Perhaps because she basketed in the pleasure of having the upper hand _always_. Of knowing more than everybody.

She was a strange creature, Helloise. Old and wise and with a twisted sense of humour. Powerful, without a doubt. Although she never left clear what exactly her abilities were.

Yet Natalie still trusted her, for the sake of old times. Every time she looked at Helloise, she remembered being a kid with long hair and sitting there in some forest with the cat-sidhe. She remembered oddly enjoying her company when Peregrin wasn't around.

The slender creature never told her she felt the same for her.

Then again, she never told her she _didn't _enjoy her around, so that was something.

Natalie yawned, closing her eyes. When she opened them again, the queen was long gone.

She simply shrugged.

Whatever Lisse had been talking about, she trusted her.

And- _again- _she knew that could be an issue.

* * *

Since the breaking-down-and-crying-into-Tooth's-arms incident, the young scot and the Fairy Queen had started to become closer and closer. At a really slow pace, of course. Toothiana was sensible enough to see the invisible walls Natalie had built around herself over the years.

Yes, she could jest, she could taunt, she could mock and laugh and exchange a considerable amount of words with people well enough. She wasn't _scared _of dealing with people.

She just preferred not doing so.

"_My people skills are 'rusty'" _The girl had said, quoting the last word with her fingers in the air.

Tooth thought that it had probably some reference she didn't quite grasp. But that was okay though. It was hard for Natalie to let anybody in, anyway.

The girl didn't understand why Tooth insisted on spending time with her. She was a sweet being, she _cared_ so much about everyone, she was bright, colourful, _beautiful_, yet a true warrior.

Natalie Nightingale couldn't even begin to understand _why the Hell _would she want to spend time with someone like her. But that was okay though.

She wasn't annoying. She didn't pry- _too much- _into her life. And even when she did, and Nat got the sudden urge to back away and stomp her way through the workshop, Tooth didn't stop her. She would smother her, yeah, she would hold her face in a firm grip and scold her when looking at how pale she was and how dark were the rings under her eyes, yeah. And yeah, that would make the violinist moody and grumpy- _on the other hand, a lot of things made her moody and grumpy- _but still, the Guardian of Memories had been proven herself good enough to inch her way into Natalie's small circle of beings she considered her friends.

Well...

Maybe 'friend' would be stretching up their relationship a bit.

Allies.

Yeah, that was more like it.

Allies, with a certain tendency from one to look after the other like a nagging, loving, surrogate mother.

So they had started to spend more and more time together. And they started to feel more and more at ease together. And, of course, Natalie was somewhat ecstatic- not that she would _ever _admit it- to have a somewhat female companion in her life, besides the cryptic and sly Helloise.

Tooth had even took the things far enough to rummage through the girl's wardrobe- arching some quite disapproving eyebrows at certain... _articles_ that seemed either too short, too tight, or with _way _too much lace to be considered properly modest or decorous in any way whatsoever - and even asked her about boys and 'girl' things.

Natalie had rolled her eyes, but smiled nevertheless.

"_I don't b'lieve in love, Tooth. Well... I b'lieve that it might be out there, but it's not for me. That bein' said, I've had my fair share of lip lockin' and improperly touchin' occasions... I'm not... I'm not exactly an angel; I'm not a naive innocent lassie... If ye get my drift..."_

After that the conversation was filled with an atrocious amount of awkward silences, half-made phrases, throats being cleared over and over again, and some incessant shifting.

A few days later, both females were walking- well, Toothiana was hovering above the floor, actually- down one of the seemingly endless hallways, in a pleasant silence.

"You know, Nat" Tooth started conversationally. "I was wondering, why don't you let your hair grow longer? I'm sure it'd look good on you."

Natalie smiled knowingly.

"Aye, used t'have it long. I think I might have a picture or two o' that if ye're curious t'see what it looks like."

"Oh? Why did you cut it?"

"Well..." The girl shrugged. "Mainly b'cause people told me all the time that I looked pretty with long hair."

Tooth giggled.

"So you cut your hair because you received _compliments _about it?"

"...Aye, basically."

They reached the door at the end of the hallway that led into the enormous living room between silly laughter and Natalie opened the door, walking into the room without sparing a second glance at it.

Their laughter died the moment they actually took a second to _see _the room.

Okay...

So, they knew quite some things about Jack.

For one, Jack Frost was the spirit of winter.

He was, too, the Guardian of Fun.

He could get bored pretty easily when thing were dull, and he would simply do _something _to keep himself entertained.

...But he could go overboard sometimes.

And right now, Jack Frost was leisurely floating on his back, hood on his head, his legs crossed, while casually freezing one curious elf or two- okay, so _a lot more _than that- that dared to enter into his... frozen kingdom.

Because that's what he had made out of the huge living room.

The majestic Christmas tree that was usually in the middle of the room was adorned with intricate ice designs and thousands of soft little snowflakes. The floor was mostly covered in snow and frost. The windows presented beautiful patterns of ice- such as most of the furniture.

The boy had a contempt smile on his face, and his eyes closed, evidently relaxed, and apparently unaware of both females.

Another elf entered the room, slid and lost control on the iced floor, and Jack froze the poor little thing without even bothering to open his eyes.

Of course, the winter wonderland they had stumbled upon, along with his creator floating there in the midst of all it, was a sight on itself. But that wasn't what made Natalie's mouth hang slightly open, _oh no._

There was music blasting from some stereo the girl herself had found and put in the room barely a week ago. It was a love song, calm, nice, happy. And Jack was humming along the tune-

_No. _He was _singing _along the song.

And he was _damn good at it._

He was better than Natalie, Matthew and Joel _combined. So, so _much better. And they were the ones who devoted their life to music, dammit! Granted, none of them were singers, but it just...

How come Jack had such an incredible voice?

Slowly, Tooth stopped fluttering her clear wings, and her delicate feet reached the ground besides Natalie. None of them could tear their eyes from him.

Tooth silently thanked that none of her fairies were here with her, or they would all just swoon and sigh at Jack. And they would have been right about it anyway, the guy had a voice to kill for.

"...Tooth" Natalie spoke in a hushed whisper. "D'ye knew he could sing like that?"

"No." She answered in the same hushed whisper. "You?"

The girl bit her lip. "Hell _no_"

She was having a whole lot of mixed feelings about it all. On the one hand, as an artist, she was revelling in his beautiful voice. On the other, it was _Jack,_ and she never, ever, _ever _would admit her liking towards his voice out loud.

So, between a rock and a hard place, her soul and heart were tearing into crying out in frustration- and maybe a little envy- and sighing with pleasure.

And then, the chorus was nearing and she knew, oh she _knew _how the lyrics followed and she was afraid of her own reaction if he said-

'_-faith and desire at the swing of your hips!'_

He said it.

He _dared _to say it.

She bit her lip. Something inside her- a resolve, an image, a mirage- shattered with a metaphorical cracking sound. She bit her lip. She tried to stifle a whimper.

She failed.

Tooth finally ripped her eyes from frozen paradise- not quite wanting to- and looked at the girl who was looking at Jack. She couldn't help the slow smile that crept to her lips upon observing her staring at him, the way she was looking at him.

Who cared if she was losing the majesty of the winter wonderland in front of her? In that moment, it was totally worth it looking at Natalie; discovering the way she looked. Her pupils dilated, her face slightly angled downwards, hands wringing, her lower lip between her teeth... In hindsight, that was the first time the girl was able to see Jack.

Not _look._

But to _really see_ him as what he was, beyond the recklessness and that annoying sense of humour that always put her in a sour mood. Not as another being that filled space, but as _him _as a whole. It was totally worth it to catch the girl finally, probably, maybe, _seeing _into him what the rest of the Guardians saw, even if just for a minute.

It was totally worth it to watch her with that almost afraid expression on her face, to see her, perhaps- though it probably was too much for Tooth to hope- starting to fall for the boy, just a little.

A _tiny little._

Natalie made a sound from the back of her throat, a mixture between a whine and a sob.

"Is anything wrong?" Toothiana said, faking innocence and ignorance in her whisper.

"...His voice." Natalie admitted. "Is... Umm, aye, _he_- _I- _I mean-" She drew a shaky breath. "His _voice _Tooth. It's doin' wicked an' wrong things t'me."

"What...?"

"T'my hormones. It's doin' wicked, _wicked _things."

Tooth nearly chuckled at that confession.

"...Course I'll deny it if ye or anyone asks 'bout it later." She added hastily.

At that silly attempt of the girl to save any sliver she could of her – let's admit it, _big- _pride, she simply _had _to let the chuckle out. Jack stopped singing. He finally noticed them, and relaxed as he was, he floated down to the floor, smug smile gracing his pale lips.

He opened his arms gesturing the whole winter world he had created around them, and cocked his head to the side, the smile never faltering.

"Ladies." He saluted, taking special care to extend the's' a bit. "Enjoying the show?"

Tooth smiled prettily and nodded eagerly, while Natalie...

Natalie simply kept on staring wide-eyed at him, and played- _nervously? - _With a strand of her hair. Jack noticed the odd behaviour and quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Okay... what's wrong with you?" He asked.

"Nothin'" ...So she _might _have replied a little bit _too fast. _

He took a step forward.

She took a step back, her usual frown making a feeble attempt to reappear.

Jack leaned forward into his staff, one hand on the pocket of his hoodie, and towered over her, smiling still.

"You" He chuckled. "Are an _awful _liar, Nat."

Tooth was contemplating the exchange in silence.

"Am _not" _The girl hissed. "An' I'm _not _lyin'. Ev'ryithin' is _fine._"

He took another step forward, visibly doubting her answer.

"Hmm..." He mused.

She took a step back.

Had he been paying more attention, maybe he could have perceived the faint sound that was escaping her lips. Like a cornered cat that's about to attack.

He took a step forward.

She took two steps back.

"Quit advancin'!"

"...Why?"

"..."

Yet _another _step forward. Without even trying to, he was pinning her in her place with those icy eyes of his, impeding her from moving freely- see: _away- _from his intense visual inspection.

Natalie blinked. Annoyed.

_Frustrated._

Since when her dealings with the winter sprite resembled so much a game of cat and mouse- where _she _was the mouse?

It.

Was.

_Wrong._

And not in that '_wrong' _of a risqué action, say, for example, the thrill of performing a minor act of vandalism right under the law's nose, or the wrong pleasure in over-indulging yourself with chocolate even though you sworn you started the diet that same morning, or even the adrenaline of making out with the bad boy, the one you know it's only going to break your heart.

But _this? _This felt entirely, completely, positively and plainly _wrong._

Whereas she wasn't blind and her _slightly _vanity streak made it able for her to admire external beauty without much trouble- _yes, _she was one of those people who could simply _stare _at someone who she found attractive without a hind of embarrassment- she tried with every fibber of her heart to deny _this_... whatever it was.

As stated above, she was a being who certainly appreciated and knew beauty. Yes, she knew Jack possessed some amazing eyes. Yes, she _knew _he had a white, charming, slightly roguish smile- even if she found it annoying most of times. Yes, she _knew _that he was... _handsome. _Because stating that the one in charge of bringing winter was 'hot' would be too ironic- perhaps a bit more irony that even what a Strider could or would handle.

But there was a difference between being _aware _of those facts- not that she would ever, ever, _ever _admit it- and, well... Ah...

_Suffering the effects _of those facts. And the painful- I'll say it again; _painful-_ truth of it all was that at the moment, with him so- _fucking- _close and towering over her, with that impish smile that made his eyes gleam even _more_, she was inevitably feeling... _oddly _attracted to him. She had been since he had started to sing.

And that was _wrong._

She tried to retaliate once again, only to be followed y him on every step she took back.

_Oh God but he was infuriating._

Almost as if he could read her frustration in her face- and he probably _could_- the corner of his lips curved even more upward.

It was a very simple gesture, almost insignificant, but in her tortuous, _mortifying, _hyper-awareness of Jack and everything Jack-regarding, she noticed it. Which made the _wrongness _of everything even wrong_er, _since her _noticing _his lips meant her _staring_ at his lips, and made some small fraction of her brain remember how _cold _and _soft _they were, and how he had vaguely tasted of something fresh and minty; and then in another almost inexistent, probably subconscious gesture, his tongue darted out of his mouth and licked at his lower lip.

And then everything inside Natalie's head went south. If anyone could have read her mind right then, then they would have widened their eyes at the lack of, err, _innocence _in there.

She blamed it on the fact that it had been a rather long time since she had actually indulged into the art of some extensive and intense make out session, let alone something _further _than that. She blamed it on Jack too, of course, not only because he was being the object of her unjustified and nearly incomprehensible attraction, but also because she had simply grown used to blame everything on him.

She had to do something.

_Fast._

Before she did something _definitely _stupid.

Not as if she hadn't messed around with random guys before just once and that's it. But she couldn't do that with _Jack _now, could she?

...Well, actually-

No. _No._

Of course she couldn't! That would be, once again, _wrong. _And she didn't have any room for drama in her life. So, that being said, thoughts in order once again, she needed to _get out._

And that's exactly what she wanted to do- except he insisted on keep looking at her with those compelling eyes of him.

One step backwards for her.

One step forward for him.

"Why are you acting so _weird, _Nat?"

Get out. Get out. _Get out._

"Why am _I _actin' weird?! Why are ye followin' me?!"

Another step; another step.

"Seriously! BACK OFF! DIDNEE YE EVER HEAR 'BOUT RESPECTIN' PERSONAL BUBBLES JACK?" She hollered.

Both the winter spirit and the tooth fairy flinched at the noise.

"I DON'T LIKE PEOPLE TOUCHIN' ME, I LIKE T'HAVE MY _OWN SPACE! FOR GOD'S SAKE WHAT'S WRONG WITH YE?"_

Almost out, come on, out, out, out...

"I SWEAR TO EV'RYTHIN' HOLY AND TRUE THAT SOM'TMES I JUST WANT TO PUT MY HANDS 'ROUND YER THROAT AND SQUEEZE THE LIFE OUT OF YE!"

And then she turned around and left.

Jack looked at Tooth, one dark eyebrow arched in question.

"Okay... what the Hell was that?"

She tried her best to act nonchalant, and shrugged politely, claiming she had no idea whatsoever.

* * *

**OK PEOPLE IM ANGRY BECAUSE THIS WAS WAY LONGER AND IVE BEEN EDITING IT FOR THE PAST WEEK OR SO AND FOR SOME REASON IT HURTS IT PHYSICALLY HURTS TO WRITE THIS SO I HAD TO DELETE LIKE 3000 MORE WORDS BECAUSE I COULD MAKE IT LOOK RIGHT AND AGH I JUST WANTED IT TO BE PERFECT SO IF IT CANT BE PERFECT ILL JUST UPLOAD IT SHORTER UNTIL FOR SOME MAGICAL ANGELICAL WHATEVER REASON I CAN PROPERLY FINISH IT UGH I HATE MY LIFE IM SO ANGRY IM NOT GOING TO PUT A NAME TO THIS CHAPTER NOW IM GOING TO WATCH SPN AND THEN SOME UNI FRIENDS ARE COMING OVER OKTHNXBYE**


	23. Pacing and plans

**So did that old man told me once, **_**lo que mata es la humedad.**_

**Remember to check on my tumblr (mscoldcoffee) for Disenchanted Lullaby stuff, when I'm not spamming about Tolkien stuff or Supernatural.**

**P.S. I know this chapter is going to make **_**some **_**people very happy. Tsk, tsk, you little dirty minds...**

* * *

He was pacing.

It was a habit he had developed with time whenever he was stuck, or when he was trying to scheme a particularly difficult plan.

He was pacing alright, back and forth, left and right. With frown and a sneer no less.

He made one hand a fist, and hit the surface of a dusty dark table.

He was fed up. Not only he had been reduced to a pathetic shadow of what he had been once- oh, the Dark Ages, who could remember his glorious years?- but now, he wasn't even being allowed to sulk- not that he would _ever _admit that he sulked- in the dark and gather up his strength once more.

No.

Not only he had become his own nightmares' chew toy for a while- which, he had to face it, was ridiculous- but now, that infuriating shiny animal had finally woken up from whatever slumber he had been put in. Or he had finally turned around to face the world instead of looking at his forgotten corner of the universe, all by himself. Whatever. He didn't know why had the lion disappeared, and he didn't care- for as long as he _kept it that way._

But he didn't, _oh no!_

He just had to stir up things once again, vanish every little nightmare he managed with so much effort create, dissipate every single scary thought he whispered with so much care into human's ears, he kicked him hard enough to irk him, yet not hard enough to finish him...

Oh, how he wished to skin the lion and hang his head over his metaphorical fireplace!

...Because, of course, the Nightmare King did certainly _not _have a fireplace.

Ahem. Whatever.

Enough was _enough. _

He couldn't keep on living with Peregrin tailing him all the time, that stupid golden beast. He had to do something. He had to come with a way to end the game for the last time, and go home with the trophy.

But how...? How could he lure the lion into his doom?

Yes, the old bastard was bossy, and grumpy, and an antisocial, and many, many other antagonising adjectives, but he was still strong enough to put up a fight, sly enough to avoid falling into any trap...

Even if he looked too tired and aged as of lately.

He had to find a way to have the upper hand, he had to use some sort of leverage-

Pitch stopped pacing. His cruel lips formed an even crueler smirk.

_The girl._

Natalie.

Pitch knew- please, almost _everybody _knew- that she was the lion's weakness. As for how or why they were connected, the stories were many, it was most likely that nobody knew the actual truth... except maybe the Cat Queen, but she was far too twisted to cooperate with anyone willingly unless she had something to gain from it.

And Pitch was sure as Hell that he would not be the one to give that sly bastard any opportunity to put a debt above his head.

On the other hand, he had already spoken to the girl already. She wasn't too bad. She could be exasperating, but she didn't worship the ground her lovely Guardians- or her lion- stood on. She could offer some decent banter. She was a good poker partner.

But most importantly, she wasn't _afraid _of him.

And that was going to make it then times easier to get a hold of her... nothing personal, really. It was a merely thing of business, of course. He didn't wish any ill thoughts to her, not particularly... but this was a... _necessary evil. _Besides it wasn't as if she would _really _get hurt, anyway.

Now, he was well aware that she was hidden in the Pole, and it would be near impossible for him to break in there in his current state.

_(Pffft, silly Guardians with their overdramatic reactions, taking her away to hide her from him... he didn't want that girl; at least not at the moment they had come up with the resolution)_

But, if he knew a thing or two about her, she wasn't going to allow being ordered around by that bunch of self-righteous clowns for a long time. She was a rebel, she needed to be able to do her own things, she didn't enjoy to be breathed down her neck on every step...

So he was going to wait until she was alone.

* * *

"Hey Nat?"

She tore her eyes from the pages she had been reading to look at Jack with a bored expression.

"What?" She asked, though it never sounded exactly like a question.

He was grinning like a madman, hands behind his back.

"Teach me to play something." That hadn't been a question either.

Her book- _Forever, by Maggie Stiefvater- _fell to the ground with a '_thud'_. Her face contorted, making her do about five different expressions in two seconds, from angry, to flustered, annoyed, surprised, and confused.

"_What?_"

"Yeah, I mean, I'd love to learn how to play an instrument but I could never learn so..."

"_What?!" _

He blinked.

"Is... there a problem?"

"A _problem?!" _She snorted. "Jack! I'm a _musician!"_

He raised an eyebrow, indicating he was going to need more information to get her point.

She threw her hands in the air in despair.

"It means I play music for a livin'! It means I _live for music! _Music is my soul, Jack, it's the _essence of my bein'! _If I don't make music, _I DIE! _Music, to me, it's one of the most _sacred _things ever! Ev'ry musician has a diff'rent technique and diff'rent style and diff'rent knowledge, and askin' for anyone to just _teach _it it's a very _personal _thin', Jack! It's like askin' to peek at their _naked soul _without any second thought, it's like askin' them to give _a part of themselves!" _

He rolled his eyes. She could be so dramatic sometimes.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. I don't get it, didn't you like, taught to kids and stuff before?"

"And _that_" He could swore she looked ashamed. "Was the equivalent of _whorin' _m'self out. Literally. It felt like sellin' myself to people that didnee appreciate it, but had 'nough money to spend anyway. Ye need t'spend time, learn 'bout the other people, be subtle enough... it's like, like fallin' in love! Or like havin' sex- _yeah, it's like havin' sex!"_

Now Jack was positively and completely lost in the conversation. She noted it.

"Ye can't just approach some random lassie and say 'hey have sex with me'. I mean ye _can, _but that's rude an' _tacky_...Nay, there are certain patterns t'follow... Ye offer t'buy a drink, slide some innuendo here or there, some gentle physical contact that looks almost innocent, say, like touchin' the other's arm for a second, ye flirt... It's far more complicated than just a frontal approach, Jack!"

She huffed and crossed her arms.

He sighed and plopped down on the couch beside her. Jack Frost wasn't one to give up so easily though, so he poked her cheek and smiled boyishly.

"_Come on, _teach me!"

She buried her face into her hands.

"JACK FROST!" She screeched. "_QUIT ASKIN' ME T'HAVE SEX!" _

In hindsight, maybe he should have made sure that the others weren't in the room next door.

* * *

"C'me on, a seven year old _can _do better than ye."

"I'm trying."

"No, no, put yer hands like this."

"Like this?"

"Not like that, like _this!"_

"Seriously, it's just the same thing."

"It's _not_. Ye're poundin' on my piano" She stopped for a second and made an amused face. "Please ignore how that phrase came out. Anyways, ye're hittin' on the keys too hard. Do it more gentle. As if ye were touchin' a woman-"

"Can we _please _drop the sexual references?"

"_Nay" _She smiled cruelly. "That's part o' the fun."

He rolled his eyes. She was being difficult on purpose, _of course. _

"You know I actually wanted to learn how to play a guit-"

"Finish that sentence an' face the consequences. I _will not _teach ye t'play guitar simply 'cause it 'looks cool'."

"Oh come on but I-"

"_Nay." _

"_Fine."_

"Ye know, I think the piano is a more beautiful instrument than a guitar anyways. I mean, it's not the same as a violin, but God above knows that I'll _drop dead _b'fore I allow yer hands anywhere near my violin." She made another face. "I really can't stop sayin' these things."

"Yeah, I _noticed_."

"Hey don't talk back to yer teacher an' _focus. _It's been _three weeks _and ye improved almost _nothin'."_

"Hey!"

"...Ye know I'm right..."

"Well it's not my fault, these exercises _are _complicated"

"Don't be such a drama queen-"

"_Excuse me you're_ the one that started _screaming_ when I asked you to teach me!"

"Aye, aye, quit _whinin' _and just keep with the- _nay, it's not like that"_

He huffed.

She rolled her eyes.

"Move." Natalie commanded, and took a seat next to him, swatting his hands away from the keys.

"_This _is how ye do it."

She took a deep breath and lowered her eyelids. The girl ran her hands up and down the keys taming the instrument, making it sing for her. Jack couldn't help but notice the small smile on her lips; she had been right, music _was _her soul... or whatever poetic-sounding phrases she had used.

Right.

She stopped playing and turned her head- and _woah _Jack was _much _closer than what he had been.

"Dude. Personal bubble. We spoke o' this b'fore."

He leaned away from her again- no, he did _not _want another Nat-crisis again, _thankyouverymuch._

"Sorry, sorry..." It was half-hearted. "I just can't help it, I mean, do you know how you _look _when you're all focused like that?"

"Uh, how?"

"Relaxed" He shrugged. "Happy."

She looked down at the piano and caressed some keys with profound reverence for the instrument.

"Aye... I guess so..."

She angled her head and looked at the winter spirit from under her lashes. He was grinning at her and- _come on! _How could _anyone _have such a perfect smile?! Ugh, it was so _unfair-_ she couldn't help but to smile at him too.

At some subconscious level she already knew that Jack had gotten closer to her. At some conscious level, maybe, _maybe_, she didn't care... too much.

He opened his mouth to say something; she leaned slightly forward to hear-

_I'm a cowboy; I've got the night on my side! I'm wanted... dead or alive!_

Both jumped, and Natalie started patting her pockets.

"My phone" She explained. "I think Joey put that ringtone..."

She finally found the thing and pulled it out of her pocket.

"Oh, and speaking of the Devil, Joel's callin'! Who thought I had reception on the Pole..."

Jack simply motioned her to pick up.

"Joe."

"_Hey Nat! How's Scotland?"_

Right. She had told them she was in Scotland.

"Uhm awesome! Plenty o'... bagpipes."

"_Really?"_

"Yeah why not? _I mean-_ why did ye call?"

"_Oh, right! Well, your birthday is in a week."_

"Yes, Joel, I _am _aware of the day I was born." She rolled her eyes.

"_That's not what I mean! Didn't you promise me to be back for your birthday?"_

"Did I?"

"_It was a rhetoral question."_

"I think that's pronounced 'rhetorical'"

"_So, are you coming or what?"_

She sighed.

"Maybe. I'll try. Why? Ye have s'methin' planned?"

"_Maybe..."_

"Joel."

"_Fine, we- I mean Matthew and I- just want to celebrate with you. Take you out somewhere nice to eat or whatever."_

"Dear, ye know I _never _turn down free food."

"_Who does? Well, see you soon I guess?"_

"Aye, see ye"

She hung up.

"What was that about?" Jack asked her.

"Oh, not much. M'friends just want t'do somethin' for my birthday."

"Wait, when is it, exactly?"

"February 9th, why?"

"...That's in a week. Why didn't you mention your birthday was coming?"

She shrugged.

"I dunno. It's not such a big deal I guess. Now shut up and keep practising."

He groaned- indeed, she was being difficult on purpose.


	24. Advances and Awkwardness

_**I've got something wild inside. Something that stirs and snarls and urges me to simply run away one day. Maybe that's why I like dogs so much, because, at the end, I'm a dog myself. A rabid dog too stubborn to be put down. I take comfort in uncertainties- but I hate them, oh, I hate them-; I've got an acquired taste to smoke, misery, and bitterness. **_

_**Broken? Probably. Scared? Definetely. Smiling? Always.**_

_**I mess with people's minds, and I fight because I like to do so. I might even lead, but never up front, no, if I am ever to lead, I do it from behind curtains. I believe in believing. I wake up every day with a sigh- but I always get up. **_

_**I've been kicked. And laughed at. I probably carry much more weight in my shoulders than what I can handle. I'm certainly the person that criticises me the most. I'm aware- painfully so- of a hundred thousand flaws I've got. But I'm proud of being who I am. I was born a warrior, after all.**_

_**I like sudden rain. I like staring fear in the face. I like comparing accents. I like showing myself bare as I am; my soul naked, my face true. I like dreaming big. I like stirring chaos. I am who I say I am- I play fool half the time, the other half I really am. I have Faith in a lot of things. I have both a hungry mind and a hungry heart. I hold no grudges- hate is poison, always, forever.**_

_**I am a lot of things. But most importantly- and I say this in my own tongue-;**_

_**Soy madre loba y loba de sangre.**_

**Yeah yeah ignore that, that was some personal writing that probably makes no sense but... well. I'm struggling. With many things. Whatever. I mess a lot of things up. And that little thing above was inspired by a song.**

**Oh, and I just want all of you to know- Mafer vos ya sabías- that there aren't many chapter left of this. Probably around 2 more...**

**Go ahead.**

**Freak out.**

**I love you.**

* * *

Natalie woke up with her face being filled with saliva. And something _definitely _slippery and scaly under the covers that she could swear over her dead mother's grave that simply did _not _belonged under the covers.

As far as her previous birthdays concerned, this one wasn't too bad for a start.

She cautiously opened one eye to stare at the blurry brown enormous furry creature a top of her bed. It barked.

"Ye put a _fish_ under my covers, Fang?"

It barked again.

Natalie could already feel the upcoming migraine.

"Course ye did..." She muttered to herself, earning yet another happy bark. The violinist intended to shot her oversized and not quite natural pet, but she couldn't keep a straight face for long.

For a grown wulver, an anthropomorphic wolf-like creature with claws and sharp fangs and incredible strength, Fang held quite the metaphorical doctorate on how to perform puppy eyes. Natalie rolled her eyes, and scratched him behind the ears.

"Ye know, at times like these I can't help but wonder, what's the decision I've taken to end up wakin' up like this?" She sighed. "But in all honesty, what should scare me, it's that this is not as unsettlin' or bizarre as it should prob'ly be. Not for me."

Something moved under the covers and Natalie made a face, thinking that _maybe _that slippery fish wasn't _so_ dead, but relief filled her when it was a white fluffy small bunny the thing that appeared next to her. It brushed its head against her cheek.

"Thanks, Lapin."

* * *

She had said, many, many, _many _times that _no, she did not want a party._ Of course, none of the beings that surrounded her as of lately had the habit of paying much heed to whatever she said- and let's add to that their lack of respect for her personal space- so they did it anyway.

So she ended up spending most of her day in between too-tight hugs and happy birthday wishes and unnecessary greetings and maybe a threat or two about getting slapped across the face with a trout.

To _celebrate _her birthday in such... family-esque ways was a foreign concept to her. So she rejected it before she could listen to that annoying voice of reason- said little voice sounded more often than not like an overly-sarcastic and simply just _done with the world _Matthew- _basically a normal Matthew- _because if she listened to that voice, then she was going to start to like the whole family-esque thing.

And no thank you, she was fine without all that.

She was used to tight birthday hugs though. Her workaholic and extremely proud of his culture uncle always gave her a too –tight birthday hug.

He was a good man. He had his weirdness, of course, but he was a good man anyway.

So, about more than a dozen '_Guys. Guys stop. Please.' _And some gifts that were unceremoniously pressed into her acceptance _or else- _among these were a music box with a mini version of herself with a violin, a plaid-painted egg that she thought was the most beautiful and majestic thing the world had ever seen, some ridiculously colourful and _of course _sugar-free treats, and a pile of snow that had found her face in quite the unceremoniously way- _'That's some fresh snow from the top of the Himalayas, thought it was meaningful and poetic enough' 'I swear, Jack. The trout. I mean it.'- _things were finally quieting down.

...

Come to think of it, things were _too quiet._

...

Natalie looked around. Jack wasn't there. Judging by the lack of that laughter she envied so much, he had escaped the room a long time ago. And he had been sneaky enough so that _nobody _noticed it.

Which was odd by itself, given the fact that it was pretty _hard _not to notice him.

She sighed. She recalled having seen him... act weird. Well, weird for him. She had seen him when he thought nobody was paying attention to him, and once or twice he had looked almost sad- of course that he had put on the natural smirk he always had whenever she shot him a curious look.

Damned be all, she ran a hand through her hair and exited the room in silence too.

* * *

She found him in an empty room.

"Jack?"

He didn't turn around.

"C'me on Jack..."

Nothing.

He was just... there. Sitting alone on the windowsill, knees against his chest, hood over his head, staring out at the whiteness of the snow.

Natalie sighed and folded her arms.

"S'riously, what's the matter?" She pressed. "Ye've been broodin' for a while now. It ain't like ye."

He shifted and looked further away from her. Really? Now he was behaving like some capricious little boy.

The girl rolled her eyes once more, and finally decided to approach him. He kept on glaring at the scenery.

"Jack" She informed. "Ye're pissin' me off. _Again._" She forcefully removed his hood and jerked his head upwards to meet his eyes. "Now quit sulkin'. It's my birthday. What means ye're my fuckin' bitch for a day- everybody is my fuckin' bitch for a day. Ye're not allowed t'sulk."

Whatever quip or challenge he usually would have said didn't occur this time. He simply knitted his brow in a deep frown, and swatted her hand away. He resumed his looking outside.

"Yeah..." He put on his hood once more. "It is your _birthday..." _

Natalie tilted her head in confusion, and casually sat down on the windowsill next to him.

"Ye... don't like birthdays?"

No answer.

She groaned in frustration. "Ye know, I'm _technically _older than ye now, so ye should respect yer elders an' answer when they talk to ye... _boy."_

She peeked at his face and saw his jaw clenched. He then buried his face into his knees and mumbled something with a distinct pang of bitterness.

"Come again? Didnee quite catch that last bit..."

His eyes snapped at hers with cold fury "But that's it, Nat! You're _older!" _He pressed his palms against his eyes. "And you _will _get even older with time. And you will forget about me-"

"Aye right as if it was _possible _for me t'do-"

"_Fine _maybe you won't forget me." He rubbed the bridge of his nose. "But you'll grow older nevertheless. You'll have a job, a life, _Hell, _maybe you'll even get married or something! And then- and then you-"

"I what?"

"You _die, _Natalie. That's what mortals do. They _die."_

Silence.

She bit her lip- she _couldn't _tell him. That was definitely off limits. Well, yeah, she supposed she was going to die sooner or later, but about what happened after that...

_No._

She had vowed not to say it to anyone. She had promised to keep the secret. Besides, let's face it, if anyone knew of her dealings and oaths and bindings and bonds...

"Stupid" wouldn't even begin to describe what they would call her. Reckless. Foolish. A little girl with no idea of what she was getting into.

And all of those were probably right, mind you, but deals were deals and there was no way she was getting out of it by now. So she was stuck with sketchy half-drew details and questions with no particular answer until the end of her days- which would come, eventually, whether sooner or later.

But God forbid she told a soul about it.

She didn't want pity. She didn't want to be talked out of it. She didn't want to be reasoned with.

And she was doing it out of a favour too.

Ah, decisions, decisions...

She rolled her eyes.

"So, may I was why the sudden realisation of my mortality affects ye so?"

Yes, good girl, keep it gracious, keep it light.

_...For now._

He shot her a dirty look.

"What do you mean _why? _Well duh. We're friends. I don't want you to die..." He trailed off.

She chuckled, and it was a bitter sound. "For som'one who's been 'round for more than _three hundred _years ye should be used to people _dyin' _'round ye-"

He glared at her. "_Shut up." _He glared at her with his heart and soul. "_Shut up!"_

Usually, she would have snickered at his reaction. Called him a drama queen. Roll her eyes and maybe even get annoyed at his tone. And, of course, start some yelling match.

But she didn't.

Because his _eyes- _she saw her reflection in his eyes, and the reflection of something she had once been.

And she was afraid because of that.

Because she could read it perfectly on his pale icy eyes, the word she hated, the word she was scared of, the word that defined her, the word that branded her like hot, scorching iron.

_Loneliness._

She could read that, and she could the end of the sentence he had been meaning to tell her too. The whole meaning.

'_You will die. I don't want you to die. You'll leave me alone. You'll forget about me. You'll leave me alone...'_

_I don't want to be alone._

_Alone. Alone. Alone. Alone._

_Alone..._

_**ALONE**_

And she licked her dried lips because that was the word she hated the most among words, because it reminded her how weak she was, how fragile and weak...

'_But must ye really leave, Peregrin? I'm tired of bein' alone...'_

'_Why can't ye stay any longer?!'_

'_Stupid lion, I trusted ye! Ye told me ye were goin' t'be there for me! Where are ye?!'_

'_I admired ye. Now... I simply lost faith in ye...'_

'_I'm sorry. I didnee mean it. I'm just so... lonely...'_

'_Aye, I understand. Nay, it's okay. Leave. That's what ye do. That's what everybody does at s'me point or another...'_

'_Do not try t'fix me. I'm not broken. I'm not sad. I'm just a loner, I had to get used to loneliness.'_

And to see that same look of despair into another soul...

_He didn't deserve it._

_Nobody did._

She wished she could do something to help. Anything.

_Anything._

Tentatively, she removed his hood- _again- _and brushed her pale fingers through his hair. He liked being touched, right? That was a gesture of comfort, right? Now she should say something.

Dammit.

She wasn't good at this comforting stuff.

She did some pretty unadvisable stuff to deal with her inner demons. She didn't have anyone to comfort her- let's face it, Peregrin certainly wasn't one for hugs and stuff.

She should say something.

She should.

"_Jack-"_

Maybe it was the way she said his name, she didn't know. Maybe it was the product of so much tension that had been building up between the two of them for the past days.

Maybe...

_Maybe, maybe, maybe._

She didn't know how it happened. She didn't know why. Or when exactly. But she was on his lap and her arms around his neck and he had his face pressed against her neck and at some level- _Oh God- _she knew that she wasn't shuddering _just because of his cold breath_- that, once again, was against her neck.

Oh God.

And he was holding her. Clinging to her for dear life. As if she was some sort of wood plank in the middle of the ocean- or something equally deep and meaningful and poetic.

_Oh God._

She had _never_ been held like that. That close. That tight. With so much... despair. Need.

She never had been _needed _so much.

"Jack...?" She hated how frail and doubtful her voice sounded, barely more than a distorted mumble thanks to his thick locks of hair her mouth was pressed against.

His only response was to hug her tighter. She _knew _his eyes were closed. He reminded her of a small kid, scared and alone and desperately clinging to someone-

Natalie could read into that hug.

_Don't leave._

_I'm lonely._

_Dont leave please._

And all of it was stupid and terribly dramatic and there were so many _feelings _that she felt like throwing up because she didn't do feelings and-

Damn.

She could relate so well.

She _had _to do something. She couldn't leave him like that. She knew what she had done... She had distracted herself from the pain, she had numbed it with several vices; she had muffled it with smoke and kisses and insults and moans because she couldn't deal with loneliness on her own.

And it had been stupid. And probably not the best way. But it had been the only way she knew.

So she had to distract him, with something, _anything_, because she wouldn't wish that pain upon anyone, because her heart broke a little when looking at him like that.

And she _was _stupid. And she _was _reckless.

But she didn't care. She stopped caring a long time ago- or at least, that's what she told herself in some vain attempt to defend her own pride at her actions.

_Anything._

_Anything to numb the pain._

_Anything to distract him. To make him forget for a while. Occupy his-_hers- _mind with something else._

For a while.

For some minutes.

It didn't matter- honestly, what _did_ matter?

She pressed a kiss to his temple, just to try the waters. He stilled, he tensed, confused, expecting... and then he held her even closer to him, as close at it was physically possible.

Natalie resisted the urge to smile, in many ways, he was still innocent- no matter how rebellious and mischievous he could be- and she _knew, she knew_ she was probably corrupting him.

Then again...

That was what she did to people, wasn't it?

Anyways...

She swallowed a bitter sigh, and grabbed his face with both her hands, gently tugging to make him look at her.

She offered the ghost of a smirk.

And then she kissed him.

And she smiled at his hesitation- he was _so _pure and simply _good_, maybe _too good _for her and she was messing him up- and his doubt when he kissed back. Lack of experience.

She knew what buttons to push, so she chuckled faintly against his lips.

And, of course, he took it as an insult, and more importantly, _as a challenge. _

Natalie would _never _admit her surprise when he took control of the kiss with much more force than what she had anticipated... Lack of experience? Yeah, maybe so, he was a bit sloppy, and a bit clumsy, but _oh, God, _he was a knack for it, he was a natural.

And it occurred to her that _maybe _she was enjoying it too much, but then that wordless voice was silenced with a sigh that escaped her lips and, and, and-

And then she completely lost control of the situation.

It was all lips and tongue and teeth and hands and some sort of hidden half-forgotten _need _that probably neither of them _knew _they had and _did he just nibbled on her lip?_

_Honestly._

_Who cared?_

She made a strange sound, something akin to a satisfied purr, and it was Jack who smiled this time- oh, she could almost see on her mind his cocky little playful smirk and she resisted the urge of swatting him across the chest- but that didn't matter either. Because it was

_So._

_Good._

She completely lost track of time and place- until he angled his head in a specific way and it made everything even _better _and it was him who couldn't suppress a sort of _groan _and-

It's amazing how one simple single sound can change perspective of things.

Only then it downed onto her what they were doing, what she was causing him and viceversa.

_It was so wrong on many levels._

She couldn't simply... fool around with him!

Not with _Jack._

It was _wrong._

In the sudden light of an apparent sense of morale that had been hidden for the most part of her life, Natalie pushed him away and breathed a shaky breath.

She opened her eyes.

_Bad idea._

Because the sight in front of her, Jack Frost with his hair completely in disarray- because of her-, swollen lips- because of her-, panting- because of her-, and with that certain dark shine on his eyes that she was sure she had too on hers, was one of the most alluring and compelling and downright _sensual _images she had ever seen.

To think that she could cause all that to an immortal, powerful spirit.

_Too much. It was too much. _

So she jumped to the floor and put some- _safe- _distance between them.

She looked at him.

He looked at her.

She looked down.

"I should go..." She trailed off.

"Natalie-" His voice was husky and captivating and-

"_No! _I- I mean..." She sighed. "I _should_ go. It's- it's late." It _was _late. It was dark already, just how much time had they been...? "I have plans... with Matt an' Joel... an' I'm probably late..."

"Oh. Right."

More silence.

_Incredibly awkward silence._

He broke the silence this time.

"Hey, what just happene-"

"No, _please, just not now. Please._ We... Can't we talk 'bout this later?" She held the bridge of her nose, because everything was simply _too much._

She wasn't good at this stuff.

Too complicated for her taste.

"Yeah, yeah, sure, I mean... Like, right now is really awkward and stuff and... I'm probably going to stop talking right now..."

"Aye, sounds... wise."

So she turned around and left the room in a rush.

Because that's what she was good at. Leaving.

And she _had _plans.

* * *

**Ok don't kill me but let's face it, that's probably one of the only scenarios these guys could have kissed and it would have made sense.**


	25. Motion and Monarchy

'**Kay guys so highlights of my life: I'm quitting Vet School, and instead I'm going to be a literature professor with the blessing of my best friend: 'I'll only allow it if you promise to be extremely eccentric.'**

**And I feel awesome with my decision. Huh. **

**Oh, and lately I've been having really pleasant conversations with the street performer down the block. He's this 20-something guy that juggles and wears suspenders. The only thing- we don't know each other's names. I call him "brother" (**_**Hey brother how's it going?) **_**and he calls me "miss Red" because I have this really red trench coat I wear a lot and I'm always with cherry red chapstick on my lips. Maybe some day I'll know his name. Or not. Seriously I love talking to random people on the street.**

**BTW, major shout out to all of you guest readers. Get an account guys, I'd love to properly thank every single one of you. I like talking, you know that already. I love you. **

* * *

_An address. _

That was all Joey had given her. An address and the instructions to 'be there by 9 p.m.'. And that's it.

She couldn't even begin to fathom where she was heading to.

...

Apparently, to the fifth floor of an apartment building. End of the hallway. Left. Apartment 513.

In another words; it was Joel's apartment. She knocked.

Nothing.

Slowly- and not without a distinct pang of anxiety- she tried the doorknob; it opened without any struggle whatsoever.

Seriously?

_Seriously._

Only someone with so much faith in people as Joel Knight would leave his door open without having second thoughts about it. Natalie smiled despite herself, he was, in the good sense of the word, simply _good._

The place was well-illuminated, with a wide open-concept design with wooden floors and simple yet nice furniture. It definitely had nothing to do with the huge dark damp mess of scattered boxes, dust, sharp shadows and valuable secrets that was Matthew's place, and certainly it was different from the chaos of papers stacked on the floor, clothes thrown all over, and distinct lack of any particular order that was Natalie's. The girl hummed, instantly making comparisons between each of them and their respective homes.

She closed the door behind her and spoke into the emptiness.

"Hello? Anybody home?" She asked, almost bored.

A _'thud' _from another room, and some grumbling. A door opened. Soft footsteps. Finally, Joel made his big entrance- and by _big entrance _I mean that he pretty much stumbled barefoot and shirtless into the room, rubbing sleep out of his eyes and not even trying to do something with the mess of his hair.

Natalie crossed her eyes, suppressed a smile and simply stared.

"What?" The guy shrugged. "Was having a late nap" He defended himself in a gruff voice.

She only rolled her eyes. "Course ye were..." She muttered under her breath.

Joey stretched like some big cat, and stopped in mid motion. He blinked. Then his face split into one of those huge honest grins he made that simply allowed you to trust him instantly and crossed the room, arms spread wide. Natalie ducked and avoided what would probably be yet another crushing hug, making him pout.

"Oh, it's your birthday, _come on!"_

"_Too many _damn birthday hugs t'day, I b'lieve I've had my fair share of social interaction for the day!"

"_Come on_, let me hug you, you grumpy weirdo!"

"_Nay!"_

"But it's your _birthday!"_

"Stop tryin' to turn that into a reasonable explanation!"

Nevertheless, between sprinting and trying to avoid being hugged, she was smiling. And she couldn't help it. No matter how much she rolled her eyes at him and called him dumb and whatnot, Joey could always make her smile. It was the sort of surrogate brother that annoyed her very much to the core and was overly affectionate from time to time, but she was willing to put her neck on the line for him.

Huh.

Weird the way friendship works.

Ultimately, he managed to give her a hug that raised her off the ground between curses and dead threats. Not that he actually paid attention to any of them.

"Fine, fine, ye gave me a hug, now go get dressed. And do somethin' with yer hair too."

He rolled his eyes at her, and turned around to walk back to his bedroo-

"Wait!"

Joel looked back over his shoulder, confused. Natalie was staring at something on his back. It clicked on his head.

_Oh. Right_

_Dragon tattoo._

The girl whistled between her teeth and touched lightly his skin.

"Tis a pretty epic tattoo, Joe. I still don't understand how come I hadn't seen it b'fore... I mean, not the first time I see ye without a shirt or somethin'."

He shrugged. "No idea." He turned to face her. "You got any?"

She smirked and lifted some of her shirt with a hand. It was rather small, with thin letters that stretched and twisted into her skin. _'Where do we go, nobody knows'_, the short phrase, like an omen, like a declaration, etched into her ribs, hugging the side of her body.

"Well that's not vaguely ominous at all."

"It's a Coldplay song, silly" Besides, it was somewhat an ironic statement given who she was and who she dealt with.

Oh, Natalie was _very _sure of what was going to happen to her.

But that was here nor there.

He raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Silly? Silly."

"Aye."

"_Silly"_

"That still the term."

"No... No _'fuckin' ignorant twat', _no, just... silly?"

"What?"

"...Okay I don't know who you've been frequenting, Nat, since when you're such a _good _girl?"

She gasped. What?!

Outrageous!

"Am _not!"_

He crossed his arms and tilted his head. "You called me silly. _Silly. _ Is it just me or do I sense some major character development here?" He signalled her general direction.

"..I hate ye."

"Nah, you don't. I'm too adorable to hate." He ruffled her hair. "Now wait, I'm gonna get dressed and stuff... And I got you a present. You wait here in case Matt comes, he's late-"

"-As usual" Natalie finished.

They chuckled at each other, and the violinist took plopped herself down on the comfy reddish-brown couch. Ten minutes later, the sandy-haired guy emerged again from his room, hair brushed, still barefoot. He threw a small velvet bag to her.

"Bought it from some hippie dude with dreadlocks a couple of days ago. I just thought it suited you."

"The guy that works on that music store on Thursdays?" She asked.

"You know him?"

"Well" She shrugged. "I flirted with 'im once or twice b'fore..."

"Right... just open it, would you?"

Natalie reached inside the small bag and touched something small, hard, smooth. Confused, she took it out.

She was holding an almost black, polished ring made out of some sort of wood on her hand. It was pretty simply, dark and smooth and shiny, not too think, not too delicate. She looked at Joel dumbfounded.

"It's made out of coconut, I think." He explained. "Look at the engraving inside."

Before even looking, however, she stared at him. "Please tell me it doesn't says _one ring to rule them all _in elvish."

"Just _look."_

She did. And she gasped. It was terribly thoughtful, and for a moment she wondered if Joel even _knew _what he had put inside the ring. A single word, in white, italic letters; _ceòl. _

"Joey..." She trailed off.

He smiled. "I got it right, right? Please don't tell me it says 'soup' or something like that. That'd be embarrassing."

She chuckled and slid the ring on her thumb- it was a bit big on any other finger.

"Nay, ye got it right. Thanks."

He shrugged. "Hey, happy birthday, right?"

Natalie just sat there, fingering the shiny dark band on her finger. She smiled; it was so simple, yet so thoughtful. A word carved in white in between the darkness of the wood. A small reminder of home too, in an old language she had only learned because her uncle was extremely proud of their heritage and culture.

_Ceòl._

_Music._

* * *

Matthew entered two and a half hours after he should have, simply opening the door without much ceremony, dressed all in black as his usual fashion, carrying a box, and interrupting the middle of a movie.

Huddled in the couch, Natalie and Joel sat, legs tangled and with a blanked over them, watching intently the screen.

"_We won't be naming our child Athol. Maybe when he's a teenager."_

"_My mother's third cousin was the Duke of Athol."_

"_We're a long line of Athols."_

Matthew simply sat on the couch and left his box on the floor. Natalie offered him some of the blanket.

"What are we watching?" He asked, in his usual, monotonous tone.

"Made of Honor." Natalie replied. "Mainly b'cause of Patrick Dempsey."

"Patrick's got good hair." Joel agreed.

"Can't argue with that" Matthew muttered behind his cigarette.

"Quick question, Nat." The light-haired said cheerfully. "Do you really throw chunks of wood like that?"

"That's called _caber toss, _and it's part of the highland games." She huffed.

"So... that _actually _happens."

"Aye."

Matthew puffed some smoke. "Our little Natalie comes from a culture where men wear skirts-"

"_Kilts"_

"-And they have games of tossing logs-"

"_Caber toss!"_

"-come to think of it, that rather explains it pretty much."

"The what?"

"How come you're so weird, Nat."

"...Says the guy whose entire wardrobe consists on _black clothes_"

Joel hummed appreciatively. "I think I might wanna visit Scotland one day."

"Ye're probably goin' to offend ev'rybody on yer first five minutes within the place, Joe."

* * *

"Here."

"What's this?"

"A box. I believe that sort of jumps to the eye. A box is a box. Even if you were raised between bagpipes and skirt-wearing men you should know what a box is."

"...I was talkin' 'bout _why _you givin' me this box, Matthew."

"_Oh. _Then you should have asked 'why' instead of 'what'. Nevertheless, the box isn't of importance, it's what's _inside _the box. Because, apparently" He rolled his eyes. "It is of some unspoken social importance to offer gifts to a person the day he or she was born. It's frowned upon the absence of a gift. Or something."

"Okay, since that's probably the closest I'm goin' t'get to a _'happy birthday, here, brought ye somethin'_ ' from ye, I'm just goin' to accept that."

"That's wise from you." He puffed another ring of smoke. "Now open the oh-so-discussed box already. I saw you ogling the damn thing every fucking time you came to my place, so I figured I could just give it to you."

Natalie opened the box- with Joey looming over her shoulder trying to peek in curiosity- and almost stopped breathing. Then she slowly started to shake.

Then she actually _screeched. _

"MATTHEW. MATTHEW YE CAN'T POSSIBLY BE SERIOUS. YE KNOW HOW MUCH THIS IS WORTH? OF COURSE YE KNOW, BUT YE DON'T CARE SINCE YE'RE FILTHY RICH. MATTHEW OH GOD MATTHEW IF TIS SOME KIND OF SICK JOKE I SWEAR I'M GOIN' TO KILL YE. I MEAN. GOD. OH GOD. THERE ARE LIKE SIX HUNDRED OF THESE IN THE WHOLE FUCKIN' WORLD, MATTHEW. MATTHEW. MATT. MATTHEW."

"Yes, stop saying my name now. And lower your volume."

"Ye're _actually _givin' me this?" She asked slowly, almost afraid.

"Yeah."

And then she forced the box and whatever it was inside it into Joel's arms and grabbed Matthew by the back of his head and have him a very loud- and probably inappropriate- kiss, making his cigarette fall to the floor.

"I love ye." She said. "Matthew Pilgrim I love ye. And I'm goin' to marry ye and have some _seriously _socially handicapped children and if they grow up to be _mildly _functional human beings, then I'll consider myself a success among mothers. We'll name them Athol Andrew Alexander, Lily Ginevra Hermione, and Balthazar Gabriel Samandriel, but we'll call him 'Alfie' for no apparent reason. We'll raise them into the belief of the Force, and make them worship the ground Ellen, Oprah and Jimmy Kimmel stand on. Ev'ry Tuesday we'll wake them up with 'Heat of the Moment', and ev'ry second of ev'ry month they will have to do an essay on their favourite Tolkien character and why they're the most beautiful thing they've ever seen. Also, they'll only be allowed to dress either in extremely sharp suits- or dresses, in case of Lily- or in a fashion I like to call '_the homeless version of Kurt Cobain'_. All of them will learn how to play the bagpipes an-"

Matthew put a hand on her mouth.

"_No." _He fixed her with a stern look. "No we _won't. _And here's a new rule: don't. Kiss. Me. Now, here's what going to happen; I'm going to take my hand away, you're going to say _'thanks' _and then you'll _stop talking_. And everybody will be happy. Alright."

She nodded.

He took his hand and retrieved the fallen- and put out- cigarette. He shrugged, threw it over his shoulder, and lit another one.

"Sorry." Natalie excused herself. "Sorry. I overdid it, didnee I? I just don't do well _feelings _under pressure."

"Dude" Joel had put the box on the couch and he took out what was laying inside it. He observed the instrument with a goofy smile plastered over his face. "Dude!" He was cradling the object as if it was the most precious thing in the world- and probably, it was one of the most precious- "You gave her a _Stradivarius_?! _I _could kiss you!"

"Please don't." Matthew replied with a grimace.

The girl snatched the instrument and cuddled it in her arms, making at it the same eyes you would make to a puppy.

A black ring with some hope and one of the world's most valuable violins.

It had been a good birthday indeed.

* * *

See, here's the deal with people.

There are some people who think they aren't enough. That they will never be enough for the world. That whatever effort they make, they'll always ruin everything, they're not pretty enough, they're not smart enough, they're not sociable enough...

They're simply not _enough._

This is, naturally, a major lie, but it's they lie that's been told to them- sometimes even by themselves- and, quite a large amount of times, a lot of them are too comfortable with that lie. They simply don't try because it's easier to preset that they _will fail_, and condemn themselves beforehand to failure.

It's a scary life in a scary world. The simple _possibility _of failure, of not being enough, scares people.

Sometimes it's easier to stop trying and curse yourself and never try again.

But that leads you nowhere.

Win or lose, succeed or fail... Fortune favours the bold. So is the nature of reality.

Then, then there are some other people, who just don't care if they're enough or not- and maybe perhaps Natalie Nightingale falls into this category. They don't care if they're good or bad at something, and they don't care that they will fail sometimes. They keep trying. In good. In bad.

They keep fighting.

However...

Lady luck is a capricious lady. Sometimes no matter how much they fight, they will still fail at the end. Some characters are simply meant to die from the beginning, from bitter Snapes to cheerful Freds. So is also the nature of reality.

Some other times, life surprises you with unexpected sunshine. A smile from a stranger. Good news.

But I am not writing to describe life and its multiple paths and options.

I am not writing to make a statement of chances and probability, of optimism and pessimism and realism.

I am no philosopher.

I simply watch people.

And people are fascinating; because asides from the first and second types, there is another type. The one that believe the world isn't enough for them.

These people have enough over-confidence to claim that they are untouchable. And it's so much sadder when they themselves believe said claim.

They will walk with their heads held high, more often than not looking at the rest of the world with a condescending stare or disapproving twitch of the lip.

They love themselves.

Wherever they walk, they own the ground. They were born natural leaders; they were born to toss orders back and forth.

But this is lie also.

Because this persons, they actually believe they are untouchable.

They are _not._

Helloise is not _people_, however.

Helloise _is Helloise. _

Her name- she refuses to state whereas it was given to her or she chose it for herself- describes her entirely. And at the same time you could write books and books only about her, and never get one fact straight. Never get to the bottom of her character.

She is capricious, bold, sly, and ruthless. Her smiles are never comforting- it only goes as far as some mild politeness. She moves like air, she is ethereal, almost incorporeal. She is water. She is fire. She is the tight silence of a dark night.

She is _a queen. _And she enjoys being in power.

In all the years, the eras she's been alive, no one ever succeeded on stealing the throne-whereas the metaphorical one or the physical one- from her.

She is a terrible enemy. She is a precious ally- then again; one can _never _tell when she _is _your ally.

She is always in control.

She's the one who pulls every string.

She is always one step ahead.

She doesn't _ask. _She tells you what is to be expected.

And you do it.

There isn't an _'I wonder what would happen if I-'_. _No. _You do it.

She says you will kneel. And you will.

She says you will keep your mouth shut in her presence. And you will.

She says you will retrieve her lost crown...

_You._

_Will._

Helloise _is _untouchable.

Helloise sits on roofs at nights, keeping appearances of a regular feline. She shapeshifts into the visage of a common cat. A black cat with startling green eyes, but a common cat nevertheless.

She sits on rooftops and watches the city life below her- _always, _always _below _her- and she sneers and her tail twirls in curiosity and expectation. She narrows her eyes and her ears twitch to captivate the different sounds.

She smiles- that's it, if cats can smile.

She watches a girl she knows like the back of her own paw. She watches her as she walks, her shoulders are slumped, her brow is furrowed. She is deep in thought. It's funny, Helloise thinks, how she walks like the weight of the world is on her shoulders. It's hilarious, Helloise muses, how she doesn't even bother to look at the road, for as long as she keeps walking.

But perhaps she should have looked.

It's extremely entertaining, Helloise mutters, how from shadows another shadow emerges, and it's tall and thin and it towers over the girl and the observer on the roof can _feel _the way the girl's eyes go up and down the figure; the way she scratches her head and asks-

"_What ye doin' here? Thought ye were restrainin' to dreamland visits. Huh. Ye taller than what I thought."_

It's completely beautiful, Helloise observes, how with a smirk and a sign and the neigh of a not-quite-horse and maybe the confused _'what the Hell?'_ of a confused violinist- one who trusts too much beings who she should _not _trust- shadows come and the streets are empty again.

The queen of cats lets her head fall back with a velvet-like laughter, and with curiosity, she realises that is a moonless night.

How peculiar.

She shakes her head and stretches.

She projects her thoughts and will, she slides orders disguised as suggestions.

_Do not. Forget. My crown._

And she waits.

* * *

**I tried a little something different on that last bit of the chapter. You tell me if you like it, kay? It probably has to do with the fact that I was listeting to several Florence + the Machine songs, mostly What the Water Gave Me...**


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